By the Light of the Two Trees
by blue-eyed-shuichi
Summary: Long before he was known as Gandalf, Olorin the Maia walked among the elves in Valinor unseen. But a troubling vision leads to taking the physical form of an elf. Will he find the answers he seeks or was it all just a bad dream? Story takes place around events in Silmarillion,Hobbit,and LOTR books and movies. Gandalf and Galadriel pairing.
1. Chapter 1

Greetings! This is my first foray into the massive and complex world of Tolkien. I do not claim to be a master of all of the lore, but I have done my best to study the information pertaining to the world I want to write about. If you have clicked onto this story it is because, like me, you were intrigued by the scenes between Gandalf and Galadriel in the Hobbit movies and felt there was a very deep connection between the pair. Possibly of a romantic nature and that is what I want to explore in this story. How they first meet, how they become friends and bond and the later trials and tribulations as the story goes from the Tree Years on Valinor until the end of the Third age and the beginning of the Fourth. It is a lot of ground to cover and will be several chapters long. Of course, this story falls under the category of AU since there is little to go on prior to the third age between Gandalf and Galadriel.

However, even though this story is AU in nature there will be parts that are book compliant. For those who know only of the movies, why have you not read the books? They're awesome! Ahem, anyway, some notes will be provided at the end of this first chapter for those who may be confused about certain characters or places within Valinor, or the Undying lands as it is often called in the movies. Anyway, onto the story!

Title: By the Light of the Two Trees

Rating: Teen. Violence and dark themes. Some romance.

Type: AU Adventure/Romance

Pairing: Gandalf and Galadriel

Disclaimer: I own no part or parcel of Tolkien's books nor the movies. This is merely for fun.

Chapter 1- Maranwe

Darkness pressed around him. Each step brought more pain. The hatred and the anger hit like blows from a hammer, slamming into him, driving him down to his knees. Voices hissed in the sea of black, mocking him in a language he did not quite understand and he covered his ears to block the sounds out. But the void was too strong to overcome and he curled into a ball, the pain nearly unbearable, his strength fading, when his ears picked up a different voice calling out to him.

"Feangol …"

The voice was soft and feminine and his brow furrowed in confusion. The name was unknown to him and he thought it a trick, so he shut the voice out, still writhing in pain.

"Feangol …" The voice called out again, stronger this time and he felt compelled to listen.

"Feangol … Don't be afraid … Look at me …"

Despite the uncertainty, he opened his eyes, blinking as a light flared in his line of vision, illuminating the void, drawing his attention, even as the dark voice hissed it's displeasure and pressed down harder upon him. "Rehta!" He screamed, his voice unrecognizable as he was tormented by the darkness, the fear threatening to overtake him.

"Feangol!" The light cried, concern and love weaved within it's words. "Come back to me! Do not give in! Come back to me! Come back to the light!"

Despite the pain and the fear, he drew strength from the light and shifted onto his stomach, clawing his way forward, trying to escape the darkness, gasping as the void hissed and grabbed at his legs, tugging violently in an attempt to drag him back into the sea of black.

But the light would not be denied and it exploded, washing over his suffering form, caressing the pain away as he fell into the arms of a tall, beautiful elf-maiden. Silver sparkled in her hair, weaved within the tresses of gold and he found her azure eyes searching his own.

"Feangol …" She whispered lovingly, leaning down to kiss his crown.

He felt strength return to him, his heart filled with joy upon being in her presence. "Melda heri …" He murmured reverently, drawing a smile from the elf-maiden.

"It is alright … He cannot harm you here … Not as long as the light of the trees remain …"

He felt warmth then, his gaze shifting to follow hers, fixated upon the glow that illuminated the twilight, finding comfort there, only to widen his eyes as a monstrous shape took form, blocking the light of the trees. Massively long legs ripped into the bark, piercing the light, absorbing it's power, throwing Valinor into darkness. Evil eyes darted about, focusing on the shocked pair and the form leapt, jaws open wide, twin fangs glistening, ready to devour them and with a burst of strength, he turned in the maiden's arms, shielding her as the form slammed into them.

Pain flared in his back, his body broken, the light fading from his eyes, the terror and grief visible on the elf-maiden's face, as she reached up to clutch his face. "No … Feangol, no, no, no!"

"No!" Olórin cried, bolting awake, disorientated as his eyes darted around, the beat of his heart erratic as he tried to focus his will. This was the fourth time since his travel near the land of Avathar that the Maia had such a troubling vision. Or was it merely a bad dream? His own power to give dreams of hope and to give comfort to those in need had done little good for his own worries and doubts.

So he had sought to find rest within the Gardens of Lórien, home of the Vala Irmo, whom Olórin had learned much from in the realm of dreams and hope. "Lórien …" The Maia murmured, his ears picking up the gentle gurgling sounds of a nearby fountain, confirming he was indeed upon the grounds of his original home. The lovely song of nightingales and the soft red glow of the Fumellar brought some comfort to him. A light breeze danced within the boughs of the silver willows that lined around the fountain, the leaves shivering with joy at the wind's touch and the Maia tilted his head back, the glory of Varda's stars visible, the pinpoints of light bringing a smile to his face and for a moment he lost himself in Lórien's beauty and splendor.

Still, Olórin could not shake the feeling of doom that plagued his dreams of late and he shifted, moving towards the fountain and peered down, troubled blue eyes reflecting back up at him. Long blond hair framed his handsome face and he reached up, touching his smooth jaw, confirming that he was indeed still Olórin and not the silver-haired elf, Feangol.

But who was Feangol? Why had the Maia dreamt that he was a wounded eldar? What was this darkness that had tried to consume him? His thoughts shifted to the elf-maiden who had rescued him. Who was she? Why did he continue to dream of her? Why did he feel compelled to seek her out? A odd pang erupted in his chest and the Maia lifted his hand, resting it above his heart and his brow furrowed. Why did the thought of not finding her hurt his heart so?

Olórin felt the presence of a great power and a fair face appeared in the pool beside his own and he turned, bowing his head, his voice soft and apologetic. "My lord, Irmo. I am sorry for not acknowledging you sooner. I hope I have not disturbed your gardens in any way."

Irmo smiled, his voice soothing and friendly. "Do not worry, old friend, I am not offended. But your dream came to my mind and I sensed your distress. When I could not reach you through thought, I felt something was wrong so I came personally to make sure you had awakened and nothing terrible had occurred to your spirit or form."

"Terrible?" Olórin murmured, studying the Ainu in concern. "So this recurring dream is more than a simple nightmare?"

Irmo met his Maia's gaze, nodding. "It was much more than a dream as it came not from me but from something or someone outside my sphere of influence. Therefore the meaning of it is unknown to me, though the vision is not entirely of a darker nature. The elf-maiden that rescued you in your dream. I feel she is more than symbolic. There is some connection you have or will have with her that will overcome whatever darkness that is troubling you."

Olórin's brow furrowed. In his lifetime upon Arda, the Maia had spent ages among the eldar, unseen, giving visions of comfort and hope to the first born of Ilúvatar. He had a special fondness for the elves, learning of their customs and rituals, sharing bits of his own knowledge with them but never had he felt as strong of a connection as he did for an elf-maiden he had never met. "Then do you know of her?" He asked, hoping the Master of Desires and Dreams could guide him on the correct path. "Does she exist in Valinor?"

Irmo tilted his head. "I cannot say with certainty that your she-elf is in the same form as the one in your dream. It is possible she roams within this land, but it is also possible that she has yet to enter this world."

Disappointment filled the blond Maia and the Ainu sensed it, focusing his gaze on the younger being. "She has affected you greatly, though you do not even know of her."

Olórin looked away. "I don't know how to explain it. I feel connected to her. As if I was this Feangol and she …" His voice trailed off, hesitant to admit to such personal emotions.

"Loved you?" Irmo finished for him.

"But that cannot be." Olórin said with a shake of his head. "I am no elf and even when I use a fanar, it is only a veil. I have never been allowed to become incarnate and I have never desired to become a truly physical being."

"Yet now you feel compelled to ask for such a rare gift?"

The Maia frowned, peering back down to the water, the stars reflecting on it's calm surface. "It is strange I know. But there is something plaguing my mind. Some darkness that lingers that I feel I must try and stop. That this recurring nightmare is a warning sign of some impending doom and I must take physical form to better understand it's nature."

Concern flashed upon the dark haired Vala's features at the implication of the Maia's words. "You think the darkness that affected your dream is connected to Valinor itself?"

"I do not know." Olórin answered, confusion and doubt filling him. "Melkor is serving his sentence but will be released soon. Manwë believes he can be reformed but what if it's untrue?"

Irmo quirked an eyebrow at his old pupil's words, surprised at how like minded Olórin was to Oromë, Ulmo, and Tulkas given the Maia's tutelage under Nienna, the Ainu of Mercy and Grief. True Melkor had committed dark deeds, but he was serving his just punishment. Who was Irmo to disagree with the will of Manwë? Still, something dark was affecting the Maia. Something that Irmo could not fathom or understand. "Perhaps this dream of darkness is related to your concern over Melkor's release?"

"Perhaps." Olórin conceded, though his heart felt it was more than that.

The Ainu's features turned thoughtful. "This recurring nightmare has truly affected you, Olórin. I believe there is something at work here that no amount of my council will solve. It is, however, something that Manwë and Varda might be able to decipher." He paused, tilting his head back, his eyes upon the starlight within his realm. "I will petition on your behalf and together we will go to Taniquetil and in the halls of Ilmarin we should find the answers you seek."

Olórin felt worry grow in his heart. "I do not wish to cause any upset among the Valar with my concerns and distress."

"This could be a prophetic message meant for you alone, Olórin. If it is the will of Eru to bring you before the council of the lord and lady of the Valar, you cannot ignore it. If that means you take physical form to stop whatever might occur than it will be so."

The Maia gave a bow of his head, trepidation filling him, even as he spoke in a calm tone. "I will go with you even though I fear it will all come to naught."

Irmo nodded then vanished, leaving the Maia alone to his thoughts, Olórin wondering how his vision would be interpreted by the Valar.

And so when the time came for Olórin to depart with Irmo, the pair gathered on the edge of the Garden of Lórien and journeyed East, near the city of Valmar, the musical ringing of the bells drawing a smile from the Maia's more somber expression. The Light of the Two Trees grew brightest as they edged closer to the hill of Ezellohar and Olórin gazed up in awe that was Telperion the silver and Laurelin the gold. The Maia was well versed in the origins of the Two Trees. It was his tutor, Nienna, that had cried the tears that watered Ezellohar, assisting the Vala Yavanna, she that is queen of earth, and whose song brought Telperion and Laurelin's into existence. So he had special fondness for the towering trees of silver and gold. His joy at being so close to the Two Trees brought back the reason for his journey and he frowned, the image of the monstrous being devouring the light was jolting and he stopped, craning his head back further to study the massive boughs that twined above the trunks of silver and gold.

Irmo sensed the Maia's concern and he paused, turning to walk back to the younger being. "There is great worry in your heart over the trees, Olórin. But we should not linger. Manwë and Varda await us in Ilmarin."

Olórin nodded, bringing his gaze downward, following the Ainu along the path that led to the base of Taniquetil. Here lived many of the Vanyar, elves of fair hair, and the Maia studied many of the female faces, searching for the elf-maiden from his vision, for she would have to come from such a bloodline to have the golden hair witnessed in his dream. Alas, none matched what he knew and the Maia continued on, just behind Irmo, making themselves visible to the eldar, singing out greetings as they were welcomed.

It was a long winding road that led up to the top of the great mountain, trees giving way to stone where newly fallen snow dusted the pathway and more than once, Olórin thought he would slip and fall. But the notion was met with irritation from within his own mind. He was a Maia and could not be killed by a mere fall. Silver light illuminated the snow capped peak where Ilmarin, hall of Manwë and Varda, lay and they waited before the gate, entering as the doors opened, stars lighting their way as they stepped forward and down the hallway, coming to a stop before the throne of the Lord and Lady of Valinor.

Blue was their raiment, matching the pair of eyes that watched them approach and the Maia came to a stop beside Irmo, his head bowed in reverence as the Master of Dreams spoke.

"Greetings Lord Manwë and Lady Varda. I trust all is well with you?"

Olórin silently observed the small band of metal that lay upon the flaxen crown of Manwë, noting how he shifted the sapphire staff in his right hand to his left, motioning out with his arm in greeting, his voice warm and deep. "Lord Irmo, it has been some time since our last meeting. All is well here, but it seems the Maia has been troubled as of late."

Olórin felt the stare of the Lord of the Valar a bit unnerving but still, he lifted his gaze to meet it, his own voice as humble as he felt. "Forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to cause you worry over my affairs. But I am indeed troubled and in need of answers."

"So my wife has told me, Olórin." Manwë replied, turning his gaze to Varda who spoke.

"Irmo relayed your recurring nightmare." The Lady of Stars began, the light of Ilúvatar giving radiance to her beauty as she studied the Maia she herself had named. "I believe it is right of you to worry about the meaning of your vision. It is full of a darkness that is unknown to us as I have never seen or heard of such a creature capable of destroying the Two trees. The action may be symbolic of the concern you have over the pending release of Melkor. However, that does not mean that such a being doesn't exist. Perhaps we could consult Oromë on the matter of the fell creature. As to the other question of who Feangol and the elf-maiden were, the answers you seek cannot be found here, but I sense you already know what it is you must do."

"You see much, my lady." Olórin replied, his blue eyes meeting her own. "And you know my mind and my heart. It is true that I have lingering doubts about the release of Melkor from his bondage, but that is due to his destructive nature. Perhaps I am worrying too much, but I cannot ignore what I have seen. Something terrible will happen and I know not of any other than Melkor that carries that darkness within him."

"My brother has done many great and terrible things," Manwë began, coming to the defense of Melkor, though his voice was soft and sincere. "And for that he is serving his just punishment. When he is released, he will have learned the error of his ways. He will be changed and we will all be the better for it."

The Maia did not protest, understanding Manwë's reasoning, for his tutor, Nienna, also believed Melkor should be allowed to roam free once his sentence was completed. "It is as you say, my lord."

Manwë tapped his fingers upon the armrest of his throne, features thoughtful. "As to your dark vision, perhaps that has more to do with Mairon. I seemed to recall the two of you did not get along so well."

Olórin's jaw flexed a bit at the mention of Mairon, remembering the time when the former student of Aulë "accidentally" let go of the hammer he was using to forge a weapon for Eönwë, Lord of the Maia, sending it rocketing backwards, nearly hitting Olórin in the process. The dark haired Maia had apologized but the gleam of malice in his eyes told Olórin that Mairon relished the aggressive action. A spark of fear ignited within Olórin's heart and from that point on, the blond Maia had avoided Mairon whenever possible. So it came as no surprise when his fellow Maia fell from greatness, following the corrupting call of Melkor, becoming Sauron, fleeing to Middle Earth, never to be seen upon the shores of Valinor again.

Still, it bothered Olórin to have his thoughts and his vision questioned. "I cannot say with certainty my vision truly means. I only know that I feel …" He paused, trying to find the right words to express what he desired to explain. "I feel that I must do something and I do not believe that I can achieve the solution as I currently am."

Manwë frowned. "As you currently are? So is it true that you wish to become incarnate? Do you really believe you can find the answers you seek as an elf?"

The Maia opened his mouth to speak but the Lord of the Valar lifted his hand in a silent motion and the younger being obeyed, allowing Manwë to continue. "Valinor is a peaceful realm. I do not think any harm will befall it's children. At least nothing to necessitate you taking physical form at this time."

Sadness welled in the heart of Olórin and he lowered his gaze to hide the pain that was upon his face.

Varda felt the Maia's grief and the loss he felt, knowing the compelling nature of his dream and desire to find the one who had rescued him from darkness. So she sent up a prayer to Eru, finding the answer she knew he would give and with a soft touch, the Lady of Stars reached out to still her husband's tapping fingers, her eyes warm and her tone gentle. "Olórin?"

The blond Maia raised his head, noting the look of compassion upon the female Ainu's glowing features and he found his voice, though it was nearly child-like in quality. "Yes, my lady?"

"I know what it is you desire to do. Long you have been a faithful and humble servant to all who have asked of your assistance. Nienna has taught you well," She paused, her features a bit more somber as she continued. "But Olórin, you must realize that it is no simple thing, becoming a truly physical being. If you decide to become the elf Feangol that was in your vision, your power will diminish. You will age as an elf, feel what an elf feels, and you may even suffer a physical death. It is possible your memories will fade and you will no longer be able to become a true Maia again."

Her words struck a chord with his doubt and for a moment he hesitated to speak but at last he found his voice and the strength of his conviction was mighty as he replied. "I understand the risks. Believe me when I say I do not make such a decision lightly, but nor can I ignore my heart and my will to follow through with this. I will do whatever is required to find the answers I seek. If that means I must become incarnate, then so will it be."

Varda smiled, sharing the answer to her prayer to Ilúvatar with her husband silently, the Lord of the Valar nodding, though he felt the need to ask one last question.

"So you truly do wish to go through with this?"

Olórin straightened his frame at the sound of Manwë's voice. "Yes, my lord."

"Very well." Manwë replied. "Your request has been granted. Eru Ilúvatar has answered Varda's prayer for you. You will be given a physical form. The form of the elf in your vision. You will become Feangol. Good luck, Olórin. Know that the wishes of your lord and lady go with you."

Olórin bowed his head in honor and gratitude as a wave of power washed over him, altering his shape. Silver replaced gold, his ears more pointed as solid mass took over his spiritual form. The light of his own power dimmed, though flecks of it remained in the vibrancy of his blue eyes. He felt sleep overtake him then and he went into a deep trance, straying out of thought and time.

_Why am I wet? _He wondered some time later, his body unmoving and unresponsive. His brow furrowed, the cry of seagulls above insistent, as if to prod him to awaken and he felt the sudden touch of a warm hand upon his shoulder and a voice, child-like and full of concern, spoke in his ear.

"Are you all right?"

His eyelids fluttered open, blinking slowly as his vision cleared, finding a girl with blond hair and curious blue eyes looking down at him.

"Hello." She said with a smile.

The language was Elvish, Noldorin for the most part with a few Telerin inflections and he was pleased he could understand her words, though a small bit of him wondered why he would not. "Hello." He replied, asking, "Where am I?"

The girl tilted her head as she studied the elf before her. His hair was silver, like her mother's and she knew he was a Teleri elf. But it was not his hair that drew her attention but the strength of his blue eyes. They sparkled like sapphires, deep blue in hue and full of mystery. There was power in this strange boy but she indulged his question. "You are on the shores of Valinor." She answered, eyes and voice a bit concerned as she asked, "Did you fall on your head?"

Groaning, he shifting to a sitting position, wincing at the pain that flared in his head. Reaching up he grabbed his forehead. "I.. I do not think so." The sound of waves met his ears then, the sensation of water lapping at his bare feet drew his attention and he frowned at how small they looked. Memories returned to him as he recalled a different form. "I am a child." He grumbled, blinking at the soft laugh of the girl beside him.

"You're very astute for one so young." She teased, her laughter deepening at his pout.

"You look no older than me."

The girl's laughter subsided, though there was a twinkle in her eye. "Because I am not." She took a seat beside him, turning to face him as she spoke. "I am Artanis. Daughter of Finarfin and Eärwen." She introduced herself, making a motion with her hand from her heart towards him, the customary first greeting of elves and he panicked a bit, for he was not what he seemed and had no father or mother name to draw on. His eyes darted quickly down to the sand, spying a seashell and he mimicked her arm motion, voice soft. "I am Halvon and my family is far away."

"Halvon, hmm?" She said with a soft smile.

He nodded, though another name came to him and as he remembered more and more of the eldar's customs. "But I prefer to go by my chosen name of Feangol."

"Soul wise?" She replied, liking the meaning of his name. "I can see why you prefer such a name. It's strong and true."

He felt heat in his cheeks and he reached up in wonderment, blinking at her laugh and he looked back towards the sea, voice soft. "Your words honor me, my lady."

"You said your family was far away," Artanis said, voice soft as her brow furrowed. "Does that mean you are alone?"

Olórin, now Feangol, smiled. "I am never truly alone." He answered softly, tilting his head back, eyes twinkling with happiness as he began to understand truly how an elf felt and spoke. "The stars alight the night, the sea sings to me of adventure and the land welcomes me with it's warmth. I go where the wind goes and dance to the sound of it's voice."

Artanis studied the boy, fascinated by his words. There was something different about him. Something that made her want to get to know him better. "You say it well, Feangol of the sea and stars."

Heat flared across his pale cheeks once again at her gentle laugh and wondered what this emotion was that he felt. A shy smile tugged at his lips and he found her voice and laughter pleasing. "I'm just Feangol. No title is necessary."

The girl's smile remained. "So what else do you know of the world, Feangol? What whispers of the wind and the stars do you hear with your Elvish ears?"

Olórin closed his eyes, focusing his power, becoming in tune with the elements, voice musical as he began to sing:

Long I have searched for the maiden fair

Eyes of azure and golden of hair

The glow of the Two Trees cannot compare

To the towering lady of light and air

Her voice calls to me

Deeper and more powerful than the sea

Though I am far from royalty

I vow to serve her loyally

But now she is far away

So I beg and I pray

Soon will come a day

When she will always stay

I make a place for her in my heart

So that we will never be apart

Oh, I want to go back to the start

Before she had to depart

To the world beyond the shore

To a darkness I abhor

The light of her I implore

To return for evermore

Come back to me, my lady

Stay with me for eternity

And I will love you faithfully

Under the stars and the sea

His voice trailed off, his eyelids slowly opening, finding the intense gaze of Artanis studying him.

"I have not heard that song before. Where did you learn of it?"

Feangol's brow furrowed. "I cannot say. Perhaps it was the wind that whispered it to me."

"I think not." Artanis replied, for she found the song sad and beautiful, the emotion of Feangol in his words and his expression were palpable to her and it affected her heart, though she could not say why. "That came from you, Feangol. The Teleri have the sweetest and most beautiful voices. Why should yours not also be sweet and beautiful?"

Feangol favored her with a smile. "Your words honor me, my lady."

Artanis crooked an eyebrow at the formal usage of his words. "Are you sure you're not from royalty? You talk like a prince."

"I am no one of consequence." The Maia, now elf, replied. "I am just Feangol."

Artanis doubted that but she said nothing, a playful smile on her lips. "Well, just Feangol. Since my mother is visiting my grandfather in Alqualondë, I am free to explore the shore. Would you care to join me?"

Feangol found himself rising to stand before her, finding her smile infectious. She was taller than him and her intricately detailed white dress was unmarred by the sand. The girl seemed not to care that he was dressed in simple brown pants with no shoes or shirt and he chased after her when she tagged him and took off running, forgetting his cares for the moment, content in the learning the joys of childhood.

And there is the first chapter, longer than the next ones shall be but I hope you enjoyed it. Do leave a few lines if it pleases you. It certainly would please me as reviews motivate me to write faster and this story has helped to ease some of my depression. The poem contained within is indeed my own and I hope it wasn't too corny. Thank you for reading! Now onto notes in order of appearance in the chapter!

Maranwe-Destiny in Quenya

Feangol- The name of the elf Gandalf was in his dark dream and the name he chose to use when granted the physical form of an elf.

Rehta!- Help in Quenya, language of the High Elves

Melda heri- Beloved Lady in Quenya

Two Trees-The trees that lit the world of Valinor. The silver tree was called Telperion and was male. The golden tree was called Laurelin and was female. I kind of think of Gandalf and Galadriel in this way.. Silver and Gold..

Olórin- Gandalf's true name. Given to him by the Lady Varda. Close to the word dreamer in meaning as he had the ability to give hope and comfort to those in dreams or in his presence alone.

Valinor-The undying lands. Home of the Valar, Maiar, and the Eldar.

Eldar-Race of elves.

Garden of Lorien-Place of rest and home of Irmo, Master of Desires and Dreams.

Avathar- A land in shadow and darkness on the southeast coast of Valinor.

Maia- A being of a lesser degree than a Vala but still very powerful. Vassals, pupils, and servants for their perspective Vala. Gandalf is a Maia. Spirits that can be seen or unseen and are humanoid in appearance, though they can take other shapes as well.

Vala-A Power of the will of Eru Ilúvatar . God-like but not Gods themselves. Those who descended from the heavens and into Arda or Earth. Very powerful but not omnipotent. Spiritual in form that can be seen or unseen and are humanoid in appearance in accordance to their personalities but can take other shapes as well. Also called Ainur or Ainu.

Irmo-Master of Desires and Dreams. His gardens are the most beautiful of Valinor an spirits and elves come there to rest and find peace. Gandalf originally worked under Irmo before being tutored by Nienna in the understanding of humility, pity, and patience. His wife is Este and she sleeps on an island in the middle of lake Lorien by which Irmo is also known.

Fumellar- Poppies that emit a soft red light in the Garden of Lorien.

Varda- Lady of all the Valar and Manwë's wife. Created the stars for the elves and is loved most of all by the eldar. She hears the prayers and lamentations of the children of Ilúvatar.

Eru Ilúvatar - God. The creator of all. Who brought the Valar and Maiar into existence with his thought and sent the Valar out to create the world of Arda through music.

Arda- Earth.

Melkor- He who arises in Might. The first and strongest of all Ainur or Valar. Sought to corrupt the world and claimed it as his birthright, thinking himself equal to Eru. Serving a sentence for his dark deeds while in Middle Earth.

Orome- Vala of the Hunt, great in his anger and does not trust Melkor.

Ulmo- The Vala of the Sea who despises Melkor and loves the elves.

Tulkas- Vala of strength. Physically the strongest of all Valar. Laughs in the face of war or sport and fights with his bare hands. Does not trust Melkor.

Nienna- A Vala and the Lady of Sadness and Grief. Her tears helped the two trees come into being. Teacher of Gandalf's. She has no mate.

Fanar-Veil or disguise, not a true physical form

Incarnate- To take on a physical form

Manwë- Melkor's younger brother. Lord of all Valar and he who understands Eru's will most of all. He does not, however, understand the nature of evil and pardons his brother after his imprisonment with dire consequences to follow.

Tanquetil- The highest mountain in Valinor and the world. The home of the Vanyar and the Lord and Lady of the Valar.

Ilmarin-The hall of Manwë and Varda where they can see and hear the entirety of the world.

Valmar-City of Bells and home to the Vanyar, the first and highest of elves. They are the only elves to sport golden blond hair and are closest to the Valar.

Ezellohar-Mound from which the two trees sprung up and grew. Near the city of Valmar.

Yavanna- Vala and Lady of Earth. Brought the two trees into existence with her song and Nienna's tears.

Mairon- Maia who was a student of Aule before he fell into the corrupting force of Melkor, and became a spy for the dark lord, fleeing to Middle Earth before he was discovered and became Sauron, the lieutenant to Melkor, or Morgoth as he would become known.

Aule- Valar of smithing. A great craftsman and he who brought the Dwarves into being. The Dwarves were not created by Eru but he allowed them to live, though they would not awaken until after the elves and close to when Man would awaken in Middle Earth.

Eonwe-Lord of the Maia and bearer of arms.

Noldor-Dark haired elves and great craftsmen. The first of the elves to make armor and swords in Valinor. Galadriel's father, Finarfin, is half Noldor.

Teleri- Singers, seafarers, and ship builders. The most numerous of all elves. Hair colors range from pale blond, white, silver, to dark in hue.

Finarfin-Son of Finwe, Who was king of the Noldor. His mother was Indis, a Vanyar, and through her, he and his children sported the only golden haired Noldor in existence.

Earwen-Wife of Finarfin and mother of Galadriel. A Teleri Princess and only daughter to Olwe, King of the Teleri.

Artanis- Noble woman. Galadriel's father name.

Father name- The first name given to an elven child.

Mother name-The name given to an elven child by the mother once she had learned of their temperament and personality.

Chosen name- The name an elf chooses to call themselves when they have a mastery of Quenya. Usually around 10-12 years old and up.

Halvon- Seashell. Gandalf's quickly created father name.

Alqualondë-City of the Teleri. Made in a natural rock harbor. Olwe rules his people from here and many ships are moored in it's bay.

.


	2. Rimbe

Well, here is another update for those who care to read my drivel. I will begin to list the years in order of events.

A quick note to clear up any confusion. Olórin=Feangol=Mithrandir or Gandalf

and Artanis=Nerwen=Alatáriel=Galadriel

I will switch between these names at times and until I get to chapters involving Middle Earth will continue to use Quenya for elvish words or names.

Y.T. means Years of the Trees on Valinor

Enjoy and please review. The more reviews I get, the more motivation I have to update faster.

Anyway onto the story. Same disclaimers apply.

Chapter 2- Rimbë

**Y.T. 1382**

Artanis laughed as Feangol chased after her, the long strides of her legs keeping her a safe distance from being tagged. The Maia, now elf, while not as swift of movement as the girl, called on his strength of will and his determination as he continued to try to catch her. The pair rounded the sudden bend of the shoreline past a cliff, finding a massive pile of driftwood was blocking the way.

The blonde she-elf darted even faster, swerving to the right in an attempt to squeeze around the far edge of the driftwood but Feangol remained true to the straight path, drawing power down into his legs, leaping with great force over the mound of wood, clearing the dead branches. The sudden flight made the silver-haired elf's heart flip and he nearly shouted his terror and joy as he landed beside the surprised Artanis. Without thought, his right hand snaked out, the fingertips brushing against the girl's left arm. The touch was faint but it was enough to count and the two stopped in their tracks.

"No one has ever caught me before." Artanis murmured, studying the boy in shock.

Olórin drew in a few breaths, letting the air out in slow succession despite the rapid beating of his heart. The Maia bent forward a bit, hands on his thighs as he tried to gather himself. This physical body was new to him and he found learning of it's own movements and abilities without any prior knowledge both vexing and wondrous. Though his physical body required more energy than his spiritual one, Olórin found he was not tired from the effects and so he rose, straightening his frame before speaking.

"I call well believe it. You are as fleet of foot and graceful as a deer in full stride. It is a surprise to me that I could even reach you, fast as you are."

Artanis smiled at the image, tilting her head. "You know of deer then?"

"Yes," He replied with a nod "I have visited the forests of Oromë and the Pastures of Yavanna many times."

"You have?" She asked, curiosity in her voice and features as she moved to take a rest upon a smooth section of the nearby driftwood. "Can you tell me more of them?"

Feangol's brow furrowed. Surely a princess of a Noldor King would be aware of the places within the land of Valinor. He thought but said nothing, indulging the girl's question as he followed her movements and took a seat beside her. "Well, they are full of trees. They speak to each other of the joys of the light and the rain. When the wind sings through their boughs, they revel in the touch. The wilds teem with deer and Yavanna herself is said to race them often." He paused, noting how she watched him and cleared his throat to continue. "There are birds, foxes, rabbits, squirrels and other creatures both great and small that roam the forest domain. The streams that pass through are cool and clear, full of fish that sparkle like the jewels of the earth. Of all things, I enjoy the forest the most."

Artanis listened in surprise at his words. "I don't believe I've ever met a Telerin elf with such fondness of land before, nor one to have traveled it as much as you have done."

Olórin features shifted to one of concern, wondering if he had revealed more than he should. Still he could not deny what he had seen and learned of the world. "I find joy in the sea as well, Lady Artanis," He conceded. "But its voice is not gentle. It is strong and powerful and demands much more of an elf than the forest asks."

"This is true," Artanis said, her blue eyes focused on the deeper ones of Feangol, her voice more cautious than before. "May I ask you something, Feangol?"

The silver-haired elf felt worry grow within him but he nodded, waiting for her question.

"How old are you?"

Olórin blinked, his mind searching out the answer within his new body and with a soft voice he spoke. "I have seen 12 elf years."

Artanis beamed, happy at his answer. "The same as me."

A sudden rumbling erupted within Feangol's belly an he frowned, reaching down to lay his hand over his bare stomach. "What is this noise?"

The girl giggled at his expression and the sound. "Seems all your chasing has made you hungry."

"Hungry?" He mimicked then sighed inwardly. _Of course this body requires fuel to run. _He chided himself.

Artanis rose, holding out her hand for him to take.

Feangol reached out, placing his hand in hers, letting her pull him up. He felt the warmth of her then, a familiar sensation suddenly rocketed up his arm, images of his vision flaring in his mind of the elf-maiden who had held him and in that moment he knew he had found his Melda Heri.

The girl sensed something profound in that moment as well, the physical contact allowing her a small glimpse into his mind and heart and her azure eyes widened, a startled gasp erupting from her throat at the flash of images that crossed her vision. _What was that just now?_

Olórin heard her voice in his head, wondering whether or not to answer, his eyes still on hers, fear and wonderment within the lady's features and he sensed within her a curiosity that would not be quelled with ignorance. _It is a dream I've had for some time. I apologize if I frightened you._

His voice was as musical and pleasing in her mind as it was to her ear and she felt an even deeper connection to him. _You heard me? _She sent to him, finding joy in his nod and the ability for them to share their minds and their thoughts in a non verbal way. She frowned when Feangol lowered his eyes and she sensed his regret and worry. Reaching out, she touched his face, urging him gently to lift his gaze. _Why do you hide, Feangol? This is a beautiful gift. The sharing of minds is nothing to be ashamed of._

_It is not the ability that makes me hide._ He replied, meeting her gaze once more. _It is that I do not wish to frighten you._

_I am not afraid. _She replied with a smile. _I am overjoyed to meet another I can talk to this way. Most people are too guarded to try or lack the ability to share thoughts all together._

Olórin studied the girl before him, taking careful note of her to confirm what he felt. Her eyes were as blue as they were in his dream, powerful, wise, and strong. Flashes of silver were weaved within the bright gold of her hair and when his defenses had been down in that brief instant, he sensed the growing power of the eldar within Artanis. Someday she would be a great leader and representative of her people and there was now no doubt in his heart that this was the elf maiden that walked the halls of his mind. Was it a coincidence that he was found by her on the shores of Alqualondë? Or had Eru himself placed him there knowing she would be the one to find him and guide him in the ways of elven form? Either way, he had found one answer to the questions plaguing him.

_I am glad that you hold no fear of me, Lady Artanis. I would not wish any harm to befall you._

Artanis tilted her head. The brief image she had witnessed was of an elf with the features of Feangol fully grown, falling into her own arms. He had been wounded and crying out for help and she felt a spark of worry ignite within her heart. Could it be that he had the ability to see far into the future? Was something to occur that would hurt the boy? She found herself wanting to protect him and she spoke to him silently her feelings on the matter. _I would not wish harm upon you either, Feangol. I worry with you alone like this. You should be under the care of an adult._

_I am fine, my lady._ Olórin protested, blinking when she kept her hold on his hand, gently tugging him to move with her as they began to walk back the way they had come. "Where are we going?" He asked out loud, keeping pace with her though it took some effort.

"Alqualondë." She answered, her eyes focused ahead. "There are some people I'd like to introduce you to."

Feangol frowned but did not pull away, unease filling him. "Do we really have to?" He asked, the question and tone nearly child-like and the girl smiled.

"Do not be afraid, Feangol." She spoke. "No one will harm you. I will not let them."

Her words and the strength of her conviction brought back the feelings of love and warmth he had felt in his vision and he relaxed. "As you say, my lady."

Artanis nodded, leading him along the shoreline, the sparkle of Alqualondë gleaming in the distance.

The city of the Teleri was built within the natural harbor of rock and they passed under the great arches of pale stone that greeted them, their bare feet leaving no trace upon the white sand that gave way to stone steps the color of pearls. They marched with purpose upward, passing several houses that sprouted around and above the rock harbor, their exterior adorned with a variety of pearls and jewels of every color and shape.

To the right, several ships were moored or tied to a very long dock that that stretched towards Tol Eressea, a large island that housed many more Teleri. Fishermen hauled in nets, collecting the bounty of the sea while the sailors sang songs in honor of the ocean that was carrying them away for another adventure in the deeper waters of Alatairë. And as with all places in Alqualondë, music hung in the air, beautiful and free, like the wind that swirled around the pair of young elves.

Artanis moved gracefully as she led Feangol upwards until the stairs gave way to an open plaza, his hand still in her own, and she guided him towards the massive tower that overlooked the city.

Teleri guards were posted in each side of the craved stone gate, their gazes fixed upon the approaching forms of the two young elves.

"Greetings, Princess Artanis," The dark haired guard spoke, his green eyes on the boy next to the girl. "Who is your young friend? I have not seen him before."

"I am Feangol," Olórin answered, introducing himself, gaze lowered a bit. "I am a guest of the Lady Artanis."

"Is that so?" The white haired guard replied, studying the youth with a critical gaze before addressing the princess. "Did you find him upon the shoreline? He appears to be one of the sailors' children. He looks rather wild and unkempt."

Artanis shifted her gaze, her features and voice icy in response. "Feangol is my friend and will be treated with the respect deserving of one such as he."

The light haired guard quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, not wanting to earn the disapproval of Olwë who was the girl's grandfather and king of all the Teleri in Valinor. "My apologies, my lady. You may enter."

The guards parted, along the two elflings to pass and they entered the King's tower. Elves of various ages wandered about, some full of song, others engaged in conversation, and all shifting their gazes to track the young pair as they passed.

Olórin felt the weight of their stare and he moved closer to Artanis. _I believe they disapprove of me, my lady._

_It is not you they disapprove of._ She replied, leading him down a hallway to her left. _It is that you are dressed too simply._

They entered into a small room where a light mist floated before them. The scent of flowers hung in the air and they moved forward, the mist clearing to reveal several pools of blue water surrounded by pale stone.

"These are the cleansing pools." Artanis spoke softly, reluctantly letting go of his hand as she backed away. "After you bathe, I will have some clothing for you."

The Maia was not offended at her words, knowing it was a custom to bathe before being gifted new clothing and introduced to members of the court, and he strode forward, picking a pool at the far end of the room.

"I will be waiting for you outside." She called into the mist, watching as the form of the silver-haired elf disappeared in the mist.

Olórin undressed and slid into the water, washing quickly, rising and drying off with the towel provided, blinking in surprise at the set of clothing on the bench nearby. He put on the light gray undershirt and breeches, tugging the dark gray tunic over his head and tightened the matching belt around his waist before slipping on a set of dark gray boots. He found a comb and drew it through his hair, straightening it as best he could before exiting the room, finding the pleased form of Artanis.

"Gray suits you." She said softly, watching him approach.

Olórin looked down at his uniform then back up at her. "I thank you for this gift, my lady. I do not know how to repay you for this kindness."

"Having you as a friend is payment enough, Feangol."

He blushed, feeling a bit flustered, and the girl let out a small laugh, holding out her hand for him to take.

Olórin slid his hand in hers, walking beside her once more. "Now where are we going, Artanis?"

"To meet my mother and my grandfather." She replied, leading him down the hall, past the soft light that emulated from the silver lanterns that lined each side, moving towards an open archway and they walked beyond its border, emerging into a water garden. Smooth stone the color of snow lined the pathways and they walked past one of the many water fountains that dotted the landscape, heading straight towards the table that lay ahead, and around which sat the forms of King Olwë, his daughter Eärwen , twin boys of silver hair, and an older boy with golden blond hair and blue eyes that matched Artanis's.

A plethora of fruits, breads, cheeses, and fish lay upon the top of the intricately carved wood and Olórin knew this, like the building of Alqualondë, was a gift from the Noldor of which Artanis belonged. The elves at the table turned, watching the pair approach, various shades of greeting upon their fair faces.

"Ah… my granddaughter returns," Olwë called out, his blue eyes as bright as the white of his hair. "And I see you brought a friend with you."

Olórin bowed his head slightly as Artanis introduced him.

"This is Feangol, grandfather. I met him upon the shores of the sea and felt a liking for him instantly."

Olwë studied Artanis, smiling at the strength of her tone. For his granddaughter was gifted with insight well beyond most elves, even for so young an age and he shifted his gaze to the boy with hair as silver as those of his own kin. "Feangol … that is your chosen name is it not?"

"It is, my lord." The Maia replied, raising his head to meet the older elf's gaze.

"It is a good name." Olwë said with a warm smile. He could see why his granddaughter liked this elf. He was intelligent and well spoken, though humble and calm of spirit, his gaze held within it a wisdom seldom seen among one so young and the fact that they held hands was not lost upon him. "Have you eaten?"

"No, my lord." Olórin answered.

"Then you must stay and partake of our food." The king replied, waving his hand slowly to them to come and sit.

Artanis reluctantly let go of Feangol's hand and they took their place side by side.

Olórin ate carefully, though he felt strong hunger pangs and he lifted the gaze to find the trio of boys staring at him, whispering conspiratorially among each other.

"What are you three whispering about?" Eärwen asked, noting the uncomfortable look of Feangol, her gaze fixated on the blond boy who answered.

"Nothing of consequence, mother. I was telling my cousins how close my sister seems to be with her new husband." The blond boy answered, the trio of boys breaking into open laughter at the crimson blush that erupted upon both Artanis and Feangol's faces.

"That is not how we treat our guests, Ambaráto." Eärwen scolded her son. "Apologize."

The stern look of his mother silenced Ambaráto's laughter and he cleared his throat. "Sorry." The blond elf grumbled, looking down at his plate, blinking and snapping his head back up when his sister spoke.

"It's quite alright, mother." Artanis said after regaining her composure. "I expect no less from a child."

"Child?" Ambaráto said in incredulity. "You're younger than I am!"

"Age does not always dictate wisdom." The girl retorted, regarding him haughtily. "Nor power." She added. "Or did you forget who outsmarted you at hide and seek."

"Power had nothing to do with that!" Ambaráto snapped, features twisted into a look of indignation. "You tricked me!"

"Children please." Eärwen said in a deceptively soft tone "Do not fight. It matters not who is better than the other. You are loved equally."

"Hmph…" Ambaráto sounded out, crossing his arms but said no more.

"Nerwen, I am surprised at you," Eärwen spoke, using the name she had given her only daughter. "You should act more lady-like. Especially in front of your friend." The silver-haired swan maiden paused, looking over to Feangol. "I apologize for my family's behavior. If I didn't know better, I would say that my daughter is trying to show off."

The young she-elf blushed again, her voice contrite. "I am sorry, Feangol."

Olórin blinked as he watched everything unfold, surprised at how temperamental elf children were. Having never been a child himself, the Maia had no knowledge of how to behave himself. "I am not offended." He found himself replying as he looked down at his plate. "I am honored at the privilege of being in the presence of Artanis and her family."

Olwë studied the boy with silent approval, sharing a look with his daughter. There was something different about this elf. A quiet strength and force of will that belied his youthful stature and he found himself asking, "Tell me of your family, Feangol."

Olórin kept his gaze downward, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer, surprised when Artanis spoke.

"His family is far away, grandfather. He is all alone."

"Alone?" The king said with a tilt of his head. "Is this true, Feangol?"

"Yes, my lord." The silver-haired elf answered. "They were swept away by one of Ossë's great storms. I am alone and have been for some time now."

"I am sorry, young one." The king of the Teleri replied, knowing the power and loss that could come from one of the Water Maia's great storms. "It is not right for you to grow up alone." He added, features thoughtful. "We shall have to find a place for you here."

"Could he not stay with us?" Artanis asked, looking at her grandfather. "He could learn much if he returned to Tirion with me."

"Hmm… Perhaps…" Olwë said. "Though as a Telerin Elf he should learn among his own people."

"Is mother not also Teleri? Are my brother and I not part Teleri? Can we not teach him the ways of the world?"

The king smiled at the quick mind of his granddaughter. "Your words are also true, Nerwen." Turning to the silver haired elf, he asked, "What do you think of all this, Feangol?"

A swirl of emotions filled the Maia. His mind knew that the correct answer was to stay among the Teleri, but his heart.. well.. his heart knew that his destiny as an elf was twined with that of Artanis and he spoke in a clear voice. "I would like to remain with Lady Artanis, my lord. If that is permissible."

The white haired king looked over at his daughter. "And your thoughts, Eärwen? Would Finarfin approve?"

"A good question," Eärwen answered, looking at the pair of elves. "I cannot say for certain what my husband would think of such an arrangement. But I can tell that my daughter is found of you Feangol and you of her."

The Maia smiled at her words, though inside he knew what the answer would be when the lady spoke once more.

"However, my father is right. Feangol should remain with the king until he is of age to travel on his own."

"But mother.." Artanis protested, going silent at the older elf's look.

"It is for the best, Nerwen." The Teleri princess replied. "I know your mind and I understand what you feel. But Feangol is a Teleri, as I am. He needs to learn of our ways first. Then he may come and stay awhile and learn of your father's. It will help with relations between our people."

"Pragmatic as always, my daughter." Olwë said, noting the sadness upon the two youth's fair features. "Do not worry, young ones." He addressed them in a soft tone. "My daughter does not plan to leave for some time. And even when she departs, you will not be apart for long, I promise."

"It will be as you say, my lord." Olórin said quietly, hearing the voice of Artanis in his head.

_This is most unfair._

_It is alright, my lady. _He sent back._ We are friends and always will be. Nothing can change that truth. Or the truth of our hearts._

Artanis took comfort in his words and presence, reaching out under the table to take his hand in hers, her eyes on his. _Thank you, Feangol. _

The Maia, now elf, looked down at their entwined hands and felt his heart warm even more to be close to her. _You are most welcome, my lady._

Sometime later, Feangol was led to a room of his own within the tower. Though small, he was grateful for the shelter and the promise of tutelage from the King himself and he thanked his host before entering the room. The Maia sat down upon the edge of the bed, his thoughts revolving around to the events that had led him to Artanis. The warm smile of her face was the last thing he remembered before sleep took him, drawing him into the land of dreams and the promise of an uncertain future.

**And another chapter done. Do please jot a few lines down if you like this. It is helpful to know there are people who may enjoy the same things I do. Anyway, a few notes for this chapter for those who don't know or wish to know more. Thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing!**

**Rimb****ë**- Means host in Quenya.

**Elf age- **A not really straight forward way of guessing on how elves age. From what is written by Tolkien, the first 10 years of life are normal but then aging slows down to around an estimated 2 to 2.5 years for every 10 years until they reach adulthood where it stops. So an elf can reach adult hood anywhere from 50-100 years. I lean more towards the 50 and you'll note that when I do the years for each chapter. Galadriel or Artanis as she was first known, was born in YT 1362. So she was 10 in 1372 and only aged 2.5 years by 1382, hence being just over 12 years old.

**Alatairë(Belegaer in Sindarin)** - The great sea that separates Valinor from Middle Earth.

**Ambaráto- **The third born child of Finarfin and Eärwen . Older brother to Artanis. But there is no exact date given for his birth so he is closer to Artanis in age than their brothers who would be adults by YT 1382. His Sindarin name is more well known as Aegnor but we are not in Middle earth yet, so we stick to the Quenya.

**Olwë-**King of Teleri and Father to Eärwen.

**Ossë-**Maia of Water, vassel to the Vala Ulmo. Known for his love of storms that can wreak havoc on sea and near shore.

**Tirion**- City of The Noldor where Artanis spends most of her time.

**Nerwen-**Man Maiden. The mother name of Artanis. Given due to her being equal in skill to the males in her family.


	3. Nemmiril

Another update to this story of mine. Disclaimers still apply. Please review if you want me to continue. Onto the story.

Chapter 3- Nemmiril

**YT 1383**

"Feangol?" Artanis whispered softly, drawing the attention of Olórin away from the stars that twinkled above the top of the tower where the pair lay side by side.

"My lady?"

The girl's features brightened at his musical tone. In the year they had spent together in Alqualondë, she had grown to understand the boy's heart and mind. Their friendship had blossomed to the point they became nearly inseparable. Artanis had found peace in his presence and power in his eyes and words. He was humble and patient, full of life and song, and she relished every moment spent in his company. To hear his voice in her mind brought untold joy to her heart and she cared deeply for the silver-haired elf.

True, her brother teased her incessantly about how close she was with Feangol, but she cared not. The boy was her friend and if someday, when they were both of age, he became more than that to her, Artanis would not mind in the least. Still, the time was quickly approaching when she would return home and a looming sadness grew in her heart at the prospect of leaving his company.

"Soon I will have to depart for Tirion and I find the thought depressing." She paused, shifting her gaze towards him, biting her lip a bit when she asked, "Is it wrong of me to want to stay?"

Olórin studied the girl with soft eyes. The year had passed all too quickly for his liking and though he enjoyed learning what it was to be a Telerin Elf, he relished every moment spent with Artanis. The thought of her leaving filled him with grief. "I.. I do not think it is wrong to want to stay, Artanis." He answered, his brow furrowed deeply at the sudden stabbing pain that erupted within his heart, and he lifted his hand, resting it against his own chest to try to calm the swirl of emotions growing within him. "My heart does not wish you to go. I do not want you to go."

Artanis saw the pain flash across the boy's features and she reached out to rest her hand over his. "I do not want to go, Feangol. I fear leaving you will break my heart."

He felt the warmth of her hand over his, his voice barely a whisper above the wind that swirled past. "But my mind understands that you cannot remain here forever and that your home is in Tirion with your father. He must miss you."

The girl favored him with a tender smile, her hand upon his. "Wise as always, Feangol. What you say is true." Shifting her gaze back to the sky she spoke softly, "The stars are always so beautiful. Could you tell me the story again of how the stars came into being?"

Olórin turned his head slowly away from Artanis, his bright blue eyes studying the skylight above, voice musical and sweet as he began to sing:

Before the words were sung

And the creation of Arda begun,

There was an endless night

Until Elentári, Queen of Light

Sang the stars into being

Mighty she was and far seeing

For she knew the elves would soon awaken

Upon the fair shores of Cuiviénen

And they would need a guide,

A light only she could provide

So she sang in a voice strong and clear

And pinpoints of silver began to appear

To drive away the darkness of night

With her love and her might

She created the stars in heaven

So that those who are elfin

Would no longer fear

The darkness that hovered near

And so the stars remain today

Their power will never fade away

For those that love the light

Varda's stars will always glow bright

Artanis closed her eyes, his voice and the words made her spirit and her heart soar. "I never tire of hearing you sing, Feangol." She whispered, voice reverent, "You know so much of the world. Almost as if you were a student of the Valar themselves."

Olórin felt a knot grow in his throat at her words and he grew silent for a moment, wondering if she had discovered the truth of his spirit but he relaxed when the girl did not elaborate, blinking when she asked,

"Have you ever seen the light of the two trees up close, Feangol?"

"Yes, I have." He answered. "And you, my lady? Have you ever witnessed the power of Telperion and Laurelin?"

Artanis smiled, eyelids fluttering closed as she replied, "Once, long ago. I went with grandmother to visit her father in Valmar. I remember the silver glow of Telperion as it gave way to the golden light of Laurelin. I remember feeling warm and safe in the presence of their brightness." She paused, voice sleepy as she added, "Your hair reminds me of Telperion's, silver and beautiful."

He felt heat bloom across his features at her praise, the loving tone making his heart flutter a bit and he sung his response softly to her. "And yours reminds me of Laurelin's. Golden and bright as the stars of night."

The girl had gone quiet and for a moment, Olórin thought he had said something wrong. But the soft, steady breathing signaled only that Artanis had fallen into a light sleep and he cleared his throat, reluctantly moving her hand from his as he reached out to shake the girl's shoulder.

"Artanis…."

"Mmm?"

"I think it's time to go back downstairs."

The girl's brow furrowed and her eyelids fluttered open. She saw the fair face of Feangol and sat up slowly, taking the boy's outstretched hand, letting him help her to her feet. "Yes.. we should not linger. Mother might worry."

Olórin led her downstairs, still holding her hand, escorting Artanis back to her room. Slowly, he let go of her hand, smiling as the girl turned to speak.

"Good night, Feangol."

The Maia met her soft gaze with his own before bowing his head slightly. "Good night, my lady." He watched Artanis enter her room then pivoted around, heading back to his own chambers to retire for the evening.

The next day found Olórin practicing at the archery range, for the Teleri were masters of the bow, and the Maia needed all the practice he could get. He stood near the end of a line of fellow archers, watching as Artanis's brother, Ambaráto, let go a shot, the arrow zooming forward, sinking just inside the inner ring of the target, earning praise from Hendumaicon, the King's master archer and trainer.

"Good shot, Ambaráto." He said, his green eyes shifting to focus on the next archer, Alacion, cousin to Artanis, and he let his arrow fly, watching as it bypassed the target and sunk into the ground.

"Hmm.. less power and more finesse is needed, Alacion." Hendumaicon commented, moving his tall and lanky frame to stand behind Halatir, twin of Alacion.

Halatir nocked back the arrow, closing one eye as he let the bow string loose, the arrow flying forward, hitting the outer band of the target.

"Not bad, Halatir, but keep both eyes open for better vision." The master archer said, moving to stand behind Olórin.

"Now you, Feangol."

The Maia moved into position, remembering the lessons from his last session and he lowered his bow and nocked the arrow before lifting it and drawing back the string in a fluid motion, his eyes on the target and he relaxed his fingers, sending the arrow sailing forward, watching as the arrow firmly sunk into the middle ring.

"Very good, Feangol. Keep practicing and you'll soon hit center targets on every shot." Hendumaicon said then moved to Artanis.

"Now then, Lady Artanis, it is your turn."

The girl nodded, her motions quick, precise, and fluid as she set the arrow, drawing the string back, her gaze intense and focused as she released the arrow and it shot forward, zooming with blinding speed before hitting the target dead center.

"A perfect strike!" The master archer sang, beaming as he studied the girl. "Your skill at target shooting has surpassed all expectations, Lady Artanis."

The golden haired maiden lowered her bow, smiling at the praise.

"That is enough practice for today. We will continue this at another time. Good day, young ones." And the master archer excused himself, leaving the elflings to go about their business.

The Maia was impressed with her talent at archery and he felt there was little she could not do better than him in his current form and he moved closer to compliment her when the voice of Ambaráto interjected,

"That was just a lucky shot." The older boy said in irritation, drawing the ire of his sister.

"I'd like to see you do better."

"I could do better than that in my sleep." Her brother snorted. "You're just a girl."

"Then show us, oh great archer, your superiority over this.. girl.." Artanis shot back.

"With pleasure." He replied, setting his feet and he grabbed the arrow stuck in the ground by his feet and nocked it back, letting it fly, watching as it again only hit the outer edge of the center target.

Artanis mimicked his motion, her arrow hitting dead center again and she smiled, fluttering her eyes at her brother who tossed his bow to the ground in disgust, stalking off, the twins laughing softly at their cousin's temper tantrum before chasing after him, leaving Artanis and Feangol to themselves.

"His pride is easily wounded." Artanis commented and began to move, heading towards the target to retrieve her arrows.

"Well you did just embarrass him." Olórin said, following behind her to collect his own arrows.

"He embarrassed himself with his behavior by claiming he could doing that which he cannot do."

"Which is?"

"That he could beat me." She replied, tugging the arrows out of the target, sliding them back into the quiver in her hand. The girl turned, studying the silver-haired elf. "You are getting better at your archery, Feangol."

Olórin lowered his head a bit at her compliment. "I do not know if I am cut out to use a bow."

"You are a gentle soul, I know," Artanis began, "But there is power in you as well as a strength that no elf can match."

He lifted his head, surprised at her comment. As the night before, he sensed that perhaps she had bypassed his defenses and glimpsed at his true form. Though his body was that of Feangol the elf, his spirit was still Olórin, so some part of his true power would remain. Her gift of insight was growing and he knew there would come a day when her mental prowess would be unrivaled by any elf inexistence and so too, would she truly know what he was. Clearing his throat he spoke softly, "I am just Feangol." He reminded her. "I am no one of consequence."

"You are more than just Feangol to me." Artanis replied, her features becoming softer as she added, "You will always be more than just Feangol to me."

He smiled then, accepting her words without dissent. The pair gathered their things and headed back into the tower at the sound of the bell that signaled lunch was ready and they ate quietly before retiring to their rooms for a bit of rest. Olórin then headed out to Tol Eressea to continue his practicing of pearl diving.

He had become fond of swimming but the diving took longer to get used to and only now, a year into his training, did the Maia feel capable of handling the deeper depths off the coast of the lonely isle. On more than one occasion, Olórin had spied a sparkle of white glowing under the surface of the sea but had never dared to go off on his own to investigate what the light may be. For his teacher Airehíthon had warned him that divers always dove in pairs, not only to assist in collecting the various oysters that held pearls of various sizes and colors, but to keep each other safe from the predatory creatures that roamed the deeper waters of Altairë.

Dressed in simple brown pants, Olórin hopped into the boat with the other divers and took a seat near Airehíthon, striking up conversation as the boat began to move. "Master Airehíthon, I've been meaning to ask you something that has puzzled me since I first started diving."

The dark haired Teleri turned his gaze to focus on the young elf, his brown eyes curious as he spoke, "What is it that troubles you, Feangol?"

"It's about that light I can see under the water. Do you know what the source of that glow is? I've never seen anything like it before."

The diving master tilted his head. "Ah… you must be talking about one of the Nemmirils." He answered, elaborating at the boy's confused expression. "A water jewel, as clear and pure as the sea that surrounds it. They are the remnants of jewels mined by the Noldor, carried away by the swift waters of the Itila that cut around Tirion. The water drops down then travels rapidly towards the sandy shoreline, it's mouth opening into the deeper waters of Alatiarë."

"Has anyone ever captured one of these jewels before?"

"A few have, yes. Mostly young males wanting to impress their sweethearts by gathering a rare jewel from the bosom of the sea. But it is a dangerous task, especially the Nemmiril you have seen." Airehíthon answered.

"Why is it dangerous?"

"Because it is guarded by a large creature with very sharp teeth." The diving master replied, his voice becoming a bit more stern. "That beast is nothing to trifle with. Your goal is to gather oysters and bring them to the boat with your partner, not to venture off on your own. Lady Artanis would not forgive me if any harm came to you."

Olórin frowned but nodded, not wanting to upset his teacher. But the idea of gathering such a rare jewel for his Melda Heri as a going away gift weighed heavily on his mind, even as the boat came to a stop and was anchored. The Maia took the small bag and the diving knife handed to him, moving towards the edge of the boat. He lifted the hilt to his mouth, biting down on it as he dove into the water, swimming swiftly downward, his partner, a sailor's son named Sereär, to his left and they communicated by hand signals, reaching the bottom. They used the knife to loosen sand and protect their hands from being sliced by broken shells, gathering the oysters as quickly as they could, placing them into the bags before surfacing again and grabbing new bags in the process.

Once finished in one section, they moved on to another, edging closer to that white light that glimmered bright enough to be seen on the surface. Olórin repeated the process again, diving down, gathering oysters, placing them in the bag, but this time, he did not rise with the others, drawn to that white light that seemed to call to him. The Maia swam towards it then down spying the large, clear jewel unmarred by any elf's touch, that lay half buried in the sand before an open hole in the reef.

Reaching up, Olórin grabbed hold of the hilt of his diving knife and carefully worked the jewel up and out of the sand. Grabbing hold of it, he grinned in triumph, snapping his head up as a shadow passed overhead. He saw the sleek shape turn and circle around again, sensing the beast's black eyes study him with malice and anger and the Maia knew he was in trouble.

**A shorter chapter and updated quickly by me. I won't do this too often but I hope you enjoyed the update. Do review and let me know if you like shorter chapters and quicker updates or longer chapters that take.. well.. longer to do. And yes, the poem was again one of my creations. Hope it wasn't too badly written. Anyway, onto the notes.**

**Nemmiril**- Sparkling water jewel in Quenya. A sea diamond. I'm sure there are readers who can figure out where I'm going with this little micro quest of Olórin's.

**Elent****á****ri**-Star Queen. Another name for Varda.

**Hendumaicon-** Sharp eyed one in Quenya. Appropriate name for an archery master, no?

**Alacion- **Wild wind son in Quenya. An offspring of one of Olwë's sons, who are unnamed in the books. Twin to Halatir. Cousin to Artanis and Ambaráto.

**Halatir**- Kingfisher in Quenya. Twin to Alacion.

**Itila- **The name I gave the river that flows around Tirion. Based off sketches of what many think Tirion would look like. There are no named rivers on Valinor so I had to choose a name. Means Sparkling in Quenya.

**Aireh****í****thon**- Sea Mist in Quenya. Diving Master that trains Feangol how to swim and dive.


	4. Óre

**Another update. Same disclaimers apply.**

**Chapter 4- ****Ó****re**

**YT 1383**

Artanis awoke to a feeling of trepidation, her mind filled with an image of Feangol in distress and she leapt from her bed, marching down the hall, heading straight for her friend's room. She paused, finding the door open and she tapped on it gently, poking her head around the side.

"Feangol?" She called out, peering into the room. When no answer came, the girl backed away, stalking quickly down towards the main hall , her eyes searching frantically for some sign of the silver haired elf.

A guard noted the girl's distress and he called out softly to her, "Are you alright, Lady Artanis?"

She stopped at the sound of the dark haired guard's voice, her own as calm as she could manage, though worry marred her features. "I'm looking for Feangol. Do you know where he could have gone?"

The guard's expression turned thoughtful. "I do believe he headed over to Tol Eressëa for instruction on pearl diving with Airehíthon."

"Thank you." Artanis said quickly, racing out the tower and down the steps of Alqulondë. She headed straight to the pier that stretched towards the lonely isle and found a boat about to embark and she called out, "Are you heading to Tol Eressëa ?"

"I am." The dark haired mariner replied, his green eyes focused down on the girl. "Are you in need of travel to it's shores, my lady?"

Artanis hesitated for a moment. If she went to the island without informing her family, she could be in trouble. _But if I do not follow the feeling in my heart that Feangol is in danger and something happens to him, I could not live with myself. _Resolve bloomed across her face and she nodded, climbing up the ladder thrown over the side, accepting the older elf's hand. "Thank you." She said, straightening her frame as she introduced herself. "I am Artanis, daughter of Eärwen and Finarfin."

"I am Arhestion, son of Arhesto and Nyellewen." The dark haired elf returned, lowering his arm to his side. "What drives you to head to the lonely isle?" He asked, the other elves around him tending to the sails as the wind billowed the cloth outward, moving the ship along and away from the pier.

"My friend is with Airehíthon, practicing pearl diving and I …" She started then stopped, brow furrowed as she pondered how to explain the situation. "I feel he is in some peril. I need to know he is alright."

Arhestion smiled, studying the girl. The lady was fond of her friend, he could tell, and so he did his best to ease her concern. "I know the dive master you speak of. His boat would be anchored off the shores of Avallónë. We can head directly there if you desire so."

Artanis bowed her head slightly. "I thank you master Arhestion, for your kindness. I do indeed wish to head in that direction."

The older elf smiled, looking up at the billowing sails. "It will not take us long, my lady. Do not worry. I am certain your friend will be fine."

Artanis did not share the sentiment but she remained silent, watching as the island grew closer. The ship rounded Tol Eressëa, sailing towards the Eastern side of it's shore. She moved to the bow of the ship, her elvish eyes spying in the great distance a lone boat anchored in the calm sea. Several elves were visible but none matched the features of Feangol and her anxiety grew as she noticed them leaning over the sides as if searching for something or someone. Panic seized her and she called out to him with her mind, hoping she could reach him.

Meanwhile, below the surface of the sea, Olórin kept his gaze on the blue tinged predator circling above his head. In his left hand he clutched the clear Nemmiril, it's glow the only comfort afforded him as he brought up the diving knife in his right hand, keeping it in front as he followed the creature's motions. The Maia's lungs were beginning to burn and he knew he would have to surface soon or drown.

_Feangol! Feangol can you hear me?_

The voice of his Melda Heri reached his mind and Olórin's eyes widened a bit at the distress he could hear in her words. _Yes, my lady. I can hear you._

Relief was evident in her voice as he heard her send back, _Thank the Valar. I've been worried. Are you alright?_

_I am fine, my lady._ He lied, not wanting to frighten her. _Where are you?_

_Aboard a ship near Tol Eress__ë__a. _She answered. _We are heading towards your boat. Why have you not resurfaced? _

Anxiety grew in the Maia's heart. He could not avoid the truth with her so near. Focusing his thoughts he sent back. _I am sorry, my lady, for the delay. I will be up shortly._

The pain was growing in his lungs and he had no choice but to attempt to surface. Sliding the Nemmiril in his pocket and keeping the knife in his right hand, the Maia pushed off the sandy bottom, wincing at the sudden pain that flared along the sole of his foot. He kicked up with all his might, clouded water following him and Olórin sensed the anger intensify from the sleek beast. Looking down, his features grew pale as the predator darted up, jaws open wide, row upon row of razor sharp teeth visible, ready to shred him into pieces and Olórin swam to the right at the last second, his cry muffled by the water as the beast slammed into him, the knife knocked out of his hand from the force of the blow, it's coarse skin scraping against the fragile flesh of the Maia.

Olórin turned and bolted up towards the surface, his lungs screaming for air and his body aching from the damage and he burst out of the water, eyes darting about frantically, spying the dive master's boat some distance to his right and a larger ship bearing down on him to his left. The cry of his fellow elves spurred him on and he swam towards the smaller boat, a trail of red water behind him as he increased his speed.

A dorsal fin emerged from the surface, heading towards the wounded eldar and the elves aboard both boats cried out in despair. Arhestion frowned and grabbed a nearby bow and quiver set. Standing at the very bow of the ship he knocked back an arrow, his gaze focused on the sleek blue shape and he let it fly, growling when it sunk past it's target. He repeated the motion, trying to save the girl's friend.

Artanis watched with horror as the dorsal fin edged closer to her friend and a sickening wave of terror welled up in her stomach at the thought of losing him. In her helplessness, the lady sent out a desperate plea to Ossë to save her beloved Feangol.

Olórin treaded water, not daring to look back, sensing the beast's mind and intent, trying not to panic at the creature's eagerness to taste his flesh and he tapped into the spiritual power carried within his own soul, lending that strength to his legs and he kicked harder, trying to escape the certain death that awaited him if he failed.

A sudden explosion erupted behind him and the Maia whipped his head to the side, daring to gaze over his shoulder, watching in shock as the creature hunting him flew out of the water and to the side, crashing with a splash back into the sea, sinking out of sight, the turbulent water calm once again and the dark voice died in the Maia's head, his ears picking up a series of clicks and a gray tinged animal leaped out of the water past the boy's head, diving back down again, followed by another creature and the pair popped their heads out of the water.

Friendly eyes studied Olórin and they clicked their greetings before swimming on either side of the elf, escorting him towards the smaller boat, keeping him safe until he could be picked up by his people. The elf was tugged up and into the dive master's boat and Olórin looked over the side as the twin dolphins popped their heads out and flapped their flippers as if to wave goodbye at him, making clicking sounds in their hope he would be okay and the Maia nodded his response. "Thank you." He called out, voice weaker than it should be and he lay still as the boat began to move.

On the other ship, Arhestion lowered his bow as he watched the scene unfold, marveling at the timely intervention of the dolphin pair, his green eyes shifting over to Artanis who seemed transfixed on her friend and he looked back, noting that the dolphins nudge the elf called Feangol up to the boat then disappear once more under the surface of the water. "Your friend is very lucky to have survived an attack from a sharp tooth."

The lady kept his gaze forward, nodding. "Yes, he is." She commented quietly, though inside her heart hammered in her chest and her knees trembled. She had nearly lost her friend today and the emotional weight was bearing down hard upon her body as she gripped the rail of the ship, calling out with her mind. _Feangol? Are you alright?_

The Maia lay quietly on the bottom of the boat, trying to process the different sensations, committing them to memory. He had never been cut before, had never felt true physical pain and found he could manage if he focused on something else. So he looked up at Airehíthon, feeling regret at the scowl upon the dive master's features. Olórin knew that he had disappointed his teacher but said nothing, waiting to see what the dive master would do.

Airehíthon's anger at the boy's actions fled at the sight of the raw wounds, his scowl morphing into a look of concern at the puddle of red that bloomed under the young elf's foot. "You're injured." He murmured, crouching down to inspect the gash along the bottom of the boy's foot. Flesh was visible, blood pumping out profusely and he set his jaw, voice grave. "This wound needs to be healed quickly before infection sets in."

Lifting his head, he barked orders to put more strength in their oars as the boat headed back to shore.

The Maia's features paled as the pain suddenly intensified and he grew puzzled at the reaction his body had, his jaw clenching as he tried to control the throbbing in his foot and the burning in his side. His eyes became glazed as he stared into the sky, the voice of his Melda Heri breaking though the haze of pain that now wracked his body.

_Feangol are you alright?_

_Yes, my lady. Do not worry. I will live._

Relief filled Artanis and she felt her legs give way, collapsing onto the deck of the ship, sending out a silent thank you to the Valar and Ossë.

Arhestion frowned at the sight of the girl falling and he came to her aid, helping her stand back up, nodding at the girl's thanks, his own voice loud and clear as he gave commands to follow the smaller boat to the shoreline, the ship coming to anchor beside it and the captain tossed the rope ladder over the side, climbing down before helping Artanis through the waist deep water as they made a beeline for the dive master.

Airehíthon cradled Feangol in his arms as he hopped out of the boat. He waded swiftly through the water, heading for the sandy shore, stopping at the sound of Lady Artanis's voice and he turned, watching the girl rush towards him, worry etched on her features as she came up beside the dive master.

"What are those marks?" Artanis asked, eyeing the angry red scrapes along Feangol's side.

"Wounds from shark skin." Airehíthon answered, climbing up the shore, towards the sandy path that wound around a mass of trees. "It's coarse and can rub apart flesh with enough force."

"Is that what attacked him then?" She asked, skin growing pale at the sight of blood that trailed down the elf's foot, leaving a trail of red in it's wake and she gasped. "What happened to his foot?"

"Feangol cut his foot when he pushed off the bottom. He will be alright, my lady."

The Maia's pained eyes met Artanis's gaze, sending out to her. _I am sorry, Artanis, for worrying you. _

The girl tilted her head, eyes tender. _Do not be sorry, Feangol. Healing you is all that matters now._

Olórin smiled back weakly, closing his eyes as he grew faint, his head collapsing against Airehíthon's arm.

Artanis's eyes widened at the sight of her friend going still and she cried out in grief when she could not reach him with her mind. "Feangol!" She looked up at the dive master, tears springing in her eyes. "What's wrong with him?!"

The dive master's features tightened as he looked down at the boy then over to the girl. "It's shock. We must hurry." He answered, increasing his speed, Artanis and Arhestion close behind as they climbed the winding trail and into the heart of Avallónë. Airehíthon raced towards the healing hall in the central plaza, Its dome as white as the pillars that lined the city and he rushed under the open archway and to the robed figure in blue, voice strong but insistent. "Mistress Thambewen! I have an elfling in need of care." The tall she-elf turned, her blue eyes focused on the silver haired elf in the dive master's arms and she waved him to follow.

Airehíthon lay Feangol down on the healing bed, backing away as Thambewen sat down at the foot. She reached out, gently inspecting the gash that continued to bleed. "This wound is deep and the boy has lost much blood."

"Can you heal him?" Artanis asked, her pained eyes transfixed on the pale features of her beloved friend.

The healer could feel the anxiety and fear rolling off the girl and she kept her voice soft, lyrical as she answered. "Yes, my lady. Your friend will be fine. But I must tend to him quickly." She began to sing softly, the words full of healing power, staunching the blood flow. Thambewen then took a cloth, dipping it into the nearby bowl cleansing the wound, the water turning from clear to red. The cut was free of debris that could cause infections and the healer spread a green salve along the wound, binding it with cloth to allow it to mend quickly. Thambewen then spread the same green salve along the angry and raw skin along the boy's side, binding it with cloth.

Rising, the healer turned, studying the people before her. "Your friend needs rest now. We should leave him be."

"I want to stay with him." Artanis replied, her eyes focused on Feangol. "I do not want him to wake up alone and confused."

Thambewen smiled, voice soft. "Then you may stay and watch over him, my lady. But he will most likely not awaken till the morn."

"I do not mind. I will stay beside Feangol no matter how long it takes for him to come back to me."

The healer quirked an eyebrow at the sincerity in the girl's tone. It was as close to a declaration of love as one so young could make but she said nothing, merely nodded and departed from the room, the dive master following but Arhestion stayed long enough to ask. "Is there anything you wish for me to do for you, my lady? Inform your family perhaps? They will be worried at your absence I'm certain."

The girl turned to reply to the older elf, features and tone grateful. " I am sorry for the inconvenience I have caused you but I would consider it a great favor to inform my mother of the situation."

The captain smiled. "It is no trouble, my lady. I will do as you ask." He gave a slight bow and departed the room, leaving the girl alone with Feangol.

So Artanis remained even as the golden glow of Laurelin gave way to Teleperion's silver light, her gaze never straying from the features of Feangol until she sensed her mother, Eärwen, come up beside her.

The Princess of the Teleri cast her gaze from her daughter over to the sleeping form of Feangol, her voice quiet in the darkness of the room. "How is he, Nerwen?"

"He will live." Artanis replied, voice low and weary. "But I worry over him nonetheless."

Eärwen took a seat beside her daughter. "You care for your friend, I know. But there are always risks that my kin face when we enter the sea depths. Feangol must learn this to understand what it means to be a Teleri."

"At the risk of death?" Artanis asked, looking up at her mother.

"You've been raised in Tirion," Eärwen replied, voice still soft. "Danger does not come to Noldor doors like it does upon the shores here."

The girl frowned, looking back down at Feangol. "I hate that he was hurt today. I hate that I could do nothing to help him. I hate this feeling of powerlessness."

"So do all that witness such things as you did today." The older she-elf began, wrapping an arm around her only daughter. "But I heard from Arhestion that a pair of dolphins saved Feangol from the sharp tooth today. Perhaps someone sent out a prayer to Ossë and he intervened on their behalf?"

Artanis heard the tone of knowing in her mother's voice and she leaned into her, whispering in return, "I did not know what to do. I called out to Ossë and he answered, though I am not sure why."

Eärwen looked away from Artanis to study Feangol. Her daughter had a point. Ossë was known to be temperamental, reveling in his love of storms, settling down only when his wife, Uinen, managed to calm him. What was it that made Feangol so special as to have a Maia intervene on his behalf?

More than once, the Teleri Princess had sensed a strong power within the boy that reflected in the brightness of his blue eyes and she wondered if he was a lost member of Elwë's clan given the rareness of silver hair among her kin. Her father had often talked of the strength of her uncle who remained lost on the other side of the world. Regardless of the origins of Feangol, it was quite clear that Artanis was devoted to him and cared about him as he did about her. Given the depth of their feelings, it would not surprise Eärwen if they married upon reaching adulthood.

"Perhaps it was your love and concern for Feangol that moved Ossë's heart to help." The Swan Princess stated, kissing her daughter's crown. "I will be staying in Avallónë should you need me, Nerwen. Do try to rest and I will check on you and Feangol in the morning. Goodnight, daughter." Eärwen said softly, loosening her hold around Artanis as she rose from her seat and left as silently as she entered.

Artanis watched her mother go then tuned to Feangol, taking his hand in hers as she remained watchful over him, even as the stars alit the night before the coming of Laurelin's golden light. She grew anxious as the silver haired elf's eyelids fluttered open, his blue orbs especially bright and he groaned, sitting up a bit, only to fall back down.

"Easy, Feangol.. Please don't hurt yourself any more than you already are."

Olórin sighed, blinking slowly, turning his head to the side to study Artanis. "My lady… I.." He started then stopped when the girl put her fingers to his lips.

"It is alright, Feangol. You do not have to explain." She said softly, lowering her hand, shifting to sit down on the edge of the bed, the worry visible on her features and the Maia croaked out in a faint voice.

"You worried over me, didn't you, my lady?"

"I cannot help but to worry," Artanis replied, reaching out to gently brush the strands of silver from his forehead. "I sensed something bad would happen to you and panicked when I could not find you."

"I am sorry…" Olórin whispered. "I should have left a note for you so you would not worry but I was too impatient." He turned his gaze away. "I behaved foolishly. I disappointed my teacher and you."

"You never disappoint me, Feangol." Artanis replied, taking his hand back into her own. "But what kept you from surfacing with the other divers?"

He felt the warmth of the stone then in his pocket and he turned his gaze back to her. "There was something I was searching for and found in the sand. Something for you to take with you when you leave for home." Slowly he pulled his hand from hers, reaching into his pocket, his fingers clasped around the water jewel and he drew it out, opening his palm, it's pure light chasing the shadows of the room away. He placed it into her open hand, voice soft and loving. "Something to remember me by."

The elf-maiden studied the glowing stone, feeling the pulse of it's power, noting it's clear surface and she looked away from it to him, tears in her eyes at the risk he took to gather such a rare Nemmiril and she shook her head. "Silly boy. I don't need a sea jewel to remember you." She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly and he blushed but returned the gesture, blinking when she pulled back to kiss his crown. "Thank you, Feangol."

Olórin felt his heart flutter at her words and the closeness of her and he stammered out. "F.. For what, my lady?"

"For being you." She answered, favoring him with a smile. She rose, voice soft. "I will let you rest for a while, Feangol, then I will come back and stay with you until you can come back to Alqualondë"

The Maia returned her smile. "As you wish, Artanis." He watched her go, the pain dulled though his foot still ached a bit. _Guess I'm not going anywhere soon. _He grumbled inwardly, sighing as he closed his eyes and relaxed, letting sleep over take him once more.

Despite the seriousness of his foot injury, Olórin recovered quickly and he thanked Thambewen for her expert healing skill and Airehíthon for his patience and strength in getting him to the healing house. He returned to Alqualondë with Artanis and her mother and they were welcomed back with song and food. The two elflings spent the next few days simply basking in each other's company, content to do little else but speak telepathically. But soon came the time for his Melda Heri to depart and with heavy heart Olórin stood with the rest of Olwë's court, dressed in the gray outfit that his lady preferred most on him, his eyes on Artanis as they said their goodbyes.

"Nemarië, my lady." He sung softly to her. _I will see you, soon. I promise_. He sent out to her silently.

"Nemarië, Feangol of the stars and sea." She replied, smiling warmly at him, though her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him. _I will hold you to that promise and look forward to our next meeting. _She sent back as she touched his cheek in customary farewell, Feangol returning the gesture, reluctantly lowering it as she withdrew her hand and turned away, walking with her mother's escort down the plaza and the steps that led away from Alqualondë.

Olórin followed down to the shore then remained still, watching for the longest time, his hand held up in farewell until she was beyond his sight. Turning his gaze skyward, he studied the stars wondering how long it would be before he would see his Melda Heri again.

**Another chapter completed. I will continue the story but updates won't be frequent due to lack of reviews. It is disheartening to work hard on a chapter and have more recent reviews from a story I completed 4 years ago than my last chapter. So if you do like it, let me know. Onto notes.**

Óre- Inner Feelings in Quenya

Arhestion- son of noble captain in Quenya

Nyellewen- Bellgirl in Quenya

Tol Eressëa- Lonely Isle in Quenya. Used to transport the eldar from Middle Earth to Valinor before Melkor's imprisonment.

Avallónë- Eastern most city on the Lonely Isle. The tower was said to be the first thing seen when nearing the shore of Valinor.

Thambewen- Chamber girl in Quenya

Uinen-Queen under the sea. Wife to Ossë, Maia of water and Vassal to Ulmo, the vala of the sea.

Elwë- Brother to Olwë and Uncle to Eärwen. Silver haired and said to be the tallest of all the Eldar. Married to the Maia, Melian, but we won't be seeing them for a long while yet.


	5. Loa

An update for my readers, few as they are. Let your voices be known and review please.

**Chapter 5- Loa**

**YT 1405**

"Do you have everything you require?"

Olórin turned at the sound of Olwë's voice, finding the Telerin King's regal form standing in the entryway of his room. The Maia slung a bow and quiver full of arrows onto his back, securing them against the blue cloak draped around the shoulders of his gray tunic. In the decades spent among the Teleri, Olórin had grown in height and mass, more adult than boy, though he had not quite reached his full physical potential. It was a slow process, aging, but it was fascinating to go though such a drastic physical change and he had gained a new understanding of what it was to be an elf.

"Yes, Lord Olwë, I believe I am as prepared as I could possibly be for the journey to Tirion."

Olwë smiled, studying the elf before him. Feangol had grown tall and strong as he neared adulthood, almost even in height to the king and Olwë saw much of his lost brother, Elwë, in the young elf. For he had the strength of will and spiritual power that transcended the limitations of his body.

"Not often do the Teleri venture beyond the borders of Alqualondë but I know you have traveled the realm of Valinor before coming here and that it is now time for you to continue that journey," Olwë began, eyes twinkling as he added. "I also know from the prolific letters sent between here and Tirion over the many years that you long to see my granddaughter again."

Olórin let out a small laugh. "True. Long has it been since I've seen the Lady Alatáriel," He said, referring to his friend by her chosen name. "I am indeed anxious to be in her presence once more."

The Telerin King understood the longing Feangol felt to see Alatáriel. Once a bond as strong as theirs was formed, to be apart for long periods of time was painful. Yet Feangol had seemed to handle the separation well enough, learning and excelling at everything Olwë had thrown at him and he felt a bit of pride at how well the young elf had turned out. For Feangol had become like a son to him and he would miss his presence in Alqualondë.

"Do take care, Feangol, while in the city of Tirion. Though Finarfin is a gentle and reasonable elf, the rest of the Noldor royalty are prone to be very prideful and easily insulted."

The Maia nodded, recalling his observations of the dark haired elves. They were gifted craftsmen but quick of temper. Still, Olórin would make sure to give them the respect they deserved. "I will be careful, Lord Olwë."

The king nodded, brow furrowing as the younger elf turned, grabbing a sheathed dagger off the small beside table, watching as Feangol clipped it to the gray belt wrapped around his tunic. "Do you anticipate trouble, Feangol?"

Olórin kept his gaze away from the king, moving over to a small gray bag on his bed, unable to voice his concern at the released of Melkor. Though nothing of a darker nature had happened in the five years since Melkor's pardon, the Maia still felt dread at the thought of the Vala roaming freely, the memories of his vision continuing to hold sway within his heart. And while a simple dagger would do little to protect him, it gave Olórin some comfort to carry it along. Besides, if he ran into real trouble, it would be the bow that would save him, not the dagger.

"It never hurts to be prepared for any danger that may come one's way." He answered at last, grabbing the bag off his bed, slipping it over his shoulder as he turned to face the king, offering him a smile to match the confidence in his voice. "But I do believe I should be safe on my journey to Tirion."

Olwë sad nothing for a moment, features somber as he gave a slow nod of his head. "I believe you will be fine, Feangol," The king backed into the hall, allowing the silver-haired elf to exit the room and the two stood facing each other. "I wish you a good journey, Feangol. Go with the blessings of your king and the Teleri. I know you will represent our people well." Olwë lifted his arm, bringing it to his chest before going outward in a slow motion. "Nemarië."

Olórin bowed his head slightly, repeating the arm motion back to the king. "Nemarië." He replied softly then pivoted, walking slowly into the main hall and beyond the gate of the tower. He turned right onto the stone path that led out of Alqualondë and towards Tirion. And so the Maia began the 200 mile journey to the home of his Melda Heri, the light of Laurelin at its zenith, casting a golden glow along the shoreline. Olórin moved at a steady pace, his gaze focused ahead while his mind relieved the past, back to the time spent with Alatáriel.

A wistful smile grew upon his face, recalling the warmth of her eyes and the strength of her voice in his mind. His desire to see hear again gave purpose to his steps and his pace quickened, light and graceful upon the ground even as the terrain grew steep, sand giving way to grass and trees. Golden light faded, the silver light of Telperion taking it's place as Olórin trekked on, not stopping until the stars alone lit the night.

The Maia took note of his surroundings, his gaze falling upon a rather tall pine tree and so Olórin climbed near the top, settling on the sturdiest bough. Adjusting his bow and quiver, he wrapped his blue cloak around his body, eyes going closed as the Maia fell into a meditative sleep. A low growling sound drew Olórin back into the realm of waking. His eyelids slowly opened, revealing bright blue orbs that sought out the source of the noise. No creature was visible yet he sensed something was not right and so he drew out his bow and an arrow, knocking it back, ready to defend himself from whatever might be out there.

No target presented itself and Olórin relaxed the string of his bow, still alert for any sign of danger. There would be no rest this night, so the Maia remained still upon the tree bough, climbing down only when the golden light of Laurelin took hold of the sky. He tread carefully along the well worn path, his senses heightened for any trouble that might appear. The trail grew steeper as the ground gave way to hill and rock.

His eyes narrowed a bit at the cliffs on each side of the trail and he paused a bit, listening to the wind as it swept around him. Something large had been following him most of the day, its steps as silent as the Maia's. But Olórin could sense the creature's bloodlust and he frowned at the dark sound that hissed in the wind, repeating itself like a mantra, foul and unnerving and a wave of anger filled the silver-haired elf's heart. _I will not fear the dark_. He vowed silently, moving forward even as his elvish ears picked up the sound of movement to his right.

The song of the birds died and the trees grew silent, a warning that something menacing was approaching and Olórin slowly lowered his hand to the hilt of his dagger, climbing up the hill, eyes focused straight ahead, passing the narrowing corridor of stone, the ground evening out and a snarl suddenly erupted above the Maia who whirled around, feeding power down to his arm, lending strength to his throw as he yanked out the dagger from his sheath, flinging it upward at the leaping shadow that blocked the glow of golden light. The snarl died instantly as the blade struck home and Olórin dived to the side as the shadow crashed, dirt flying in it's wake as it slid to a stop.

Bright blue eyes watched as the life left the golden ones of his attacker, the large form of a mountain lion twitching in a death spasm before going still and the Maia felt regret for taking the life of such a rare creature. Pushing off the ground, Olórin rose, tilting his head up at the sound of hooves, blinking as another massive form leaped over the edge of the wall, landing beside the dead animal and the Maia bowed his head at the figure upon the white horse, voice respectful as he spoke, "Lord Oromë."

The Vala of the Hunt tugged on the reins of Nahar, guiding the horse to turn towards Olórin, quirking an eyebrow at the elf. Oromë focused his gaze, peering beyond the elf's physical form, seeing the Maia underneath, his voice low but glad. "Ah, Olórin. It has been a long time since I saw you last. And it seems Irmo was telling the truth about you becoming incarnate."

"I have indeed taken physical form, my lord." Olórin replied, lifting his gaze, watching as the Vala dismounted and walked over to the mountain lion.

Crouching down, Oromë studied the dead animal then reached out, his hand wrapping around the hilt of the blade sunk under the jaw of the Mountain lion's head and slowly drew it outward. "I've been tracking this beast for days," He began, rising to his feet, using his own cloak to wipe the blood off the dagger before flipping it over, catching the blade, hilt out, handing it back to the Maia. "And you killed it in one blow with a simple knife."

Olórin took the weapon and sheathed it, voice humble. "It was a lucky strike."

The Ainu tilted his head. "It was a skillful throw, even as an elf." He replied.

"There was a black voice guiding this creature. A foul word I did not recognize traveled on the wind and in it's mind. Over and over again, going silent once the beast died."

Oromë turned his gaze back to the mountain lion. "Many creatures died in the path of this beast," The Vala said, moving over to lift the lion up off the ground, slinging it over the back of Nahar. "Something festered in it's mind and made it the instrument of destruction. It killed not for food or territory but simply because it could."

The Maia frowned. "Animals don't kill for the sake of killing."

"No, they do not," Oromë murmured, voice distant. "This is the fifth creature I've had to hunt down in the realm of Valinor this year alone. It is most unnatural." He turned to study the elf. "You said it was a dark voice you heard whispering on the wind and in this animal's mind?"

Olórin hesitated, unsure whether to elaborate why he recognized the dark voice, but reason overrode his sense of privacy and he answered, "Yes. It is the exact same voice I heard in my vision long ago."

"Ah.. that would explain it." The Ainu said, gesturing towards Olórin. "Some vision plagues you, so you took this form to solve your riddles."

The Maia stared at the Vala, surprised at how perceptive he was. "You see much, my lord."

"You believe Melkor is behind all this?" The Vala asked, focusing his eyes intently on Olórin as he waited for the Maia to respond.

The silver-haired elf hesitated for a few seconds before answering in a careful tone. "I do not trust that Melkor has learned from his imprisonment."

"An astute assessment," The Vala of the Hunt said. "I feel this is the work of Melkor but Manwë will not listen. He does not understand his brother's true nature and I fear there is worse to follow." Looking off into the distance, features thoughtful as he added, "You are traveling from Alqualondë to Tirion are you not? Has Melkor revealed himself there?"

Olórin was unfazed at the knowledge the Vala had over the Maia's activities, knowing that the Vala's abilities to see and travel great distances were greater than his own and he shook his head in response. "No, my lord. I would have sensed him if he had. He seems to dislike the sea and fears going near it."

The Ainu nodded. "The Vanyar will not listen to his words, no matter what form he uses but the Noldor seem to take to his council. If you remain in Tirion be mindful of his presence. He will know what you are."

The Maia watched as the Vala swept his cloak aside, revealing a intricately decorated gray leather scabbard. The Ainu reached down, untying the sheathed weapon, silver hilt visible and he lay it sideways in his open palms, presenting it to the surprised Olórin . "This is Haldanar, a sword forged by Aulë. It's blade burns with a white flame that cuts through even the most impenetrable darkness. May it serve you well in the time to come."

Olórin accepted the gift, taking it gently from the Ainu's hands. He felt power pulsing through the scabbard and he looked up to the Vala who understood his curious look.

"Haldanar responds to the power of the user, harnessing that energy then amplifying the effect. For a Maia, the power you wield will be great indeed," He explained, adding, "The Noldor won't be able to see Haldanar when it's sheathed, the scabbard is invisible to elvish eyes, so unless you pull the blade free, it will remain unseen."

Olórin did not question the reason for such a powerful gift, his voice soft and humble. "I thank you, Lord Oromë, for this gift. I will take good care of Haldanar until you have need of it again." He tied the scabbard to the belt of his tunic.

Oromë smiled then whistled, his gaze moving beyond the Maia and Olórin turned, watching as a gigantic hound emerged from the nearby brush, trotting towards its master, sitting on its haunches, intelligent brown eyes studying the silver-haired elf as the Ainu spoke. "Ronien will keep you company until you reach Tirion." The Vala walked over to Nahar, tying down the dead mountain lion before sliding up and onto the white horse.

The Maia kept his gaze on the Ainu, noting that the hound, Ronien, shifted to come sit beside him. Olórin bowed his head in respect, realization dawning on him at the true meaning of what had just occurred. "I thank you again, my lord. Please give Irmo my regards and my thanks for his assistance when you see him."

The Vala of the Hunt smiled, happy that the Maia had figured out his reasoning for helping the elf. "He will be glad to know you are well and thriving as one of the Eldar. Nemarië." He said, raising his hand slightly in goodbye.

"Nemarië" The Maia repeated, mimicking the motion, watching as the Ainu rode off, leaving the hound and him alone on the road. Continuing his journey, Olórin drew comfort in the nearness of Ronien. The wolf hound strolled by the elf's side, knowing her duty was to keep him safe until he reached the steps of Tirion while also on the look out for any other signs of fell creatures. But no other threats presented themselves and after several days of travel, the pair reached the borders of Tirion, the capital city of the Noldor.

Bright was the light of Ingwë's tower and Olórin let out a breath of relief at reaching his destination, turning to the hound as he spoke. "Thank you Ronien. Your company was most welcome and I wish you a safe journey home."

The wolf hound bowed her head in acknowledgement before turning and racing away, bounding out of sight and the Maia pivoted around, heading towards the many steps of Tirion. His pace quickened, eager to enter the city to find his Melda Heri. His gray boots barely touched the crystal stairway that stretched beyond the twin waterfalls of the Itila river that flowed around the city. He marveled at the golden domes of the many turrets and towers of white that sparkled in the glow of Laurelin's light. Finely ground sand the color of diamonds met his booted feet as he reached the top of the stairway. The massive city flooded his vision as he walked forward into the street.

Many sets of eyes watched him pass and he sensed their curiosity at the Telerin elf but he paid them little mind, continuing onward to the great plaza where Galathilion grew tall and strong, it's bark as white as the walls that lined every building. Many times Olórin had visited this city but he knew not where Alatáriel resided. A sudden sense of her filled his being and he stopped in his tracks, her voice like a lover's caress in his mind

_Welcome Feangol of the sea and stars_.

Olórin turned, his eyes falling upon the tall form of Alatáriel. His heart quickened at her beauty and the warmth of their shared connection.

_It is just Feangol, my lady. _He sent back recalling their first meeting long ago. Heat flared across his cheek at her smile as he watched her close the distance between them, her hand rising to rest on his cheek and he returned the gesture, their eyes on one another.

_I have missed you. _Alatáriel sent to him, her bright eyes studying his form. He had grown equal to her in height, his features and form most fair, like what she had witnessed in the brief image shared long ago and she found him very pleasing to look upon.

_As I have missed you. _Olórin returned, finding himself lost in her beauty and splendor and he sung to her softly, "You have grown bright and beautiful, my lady. And strong, for I sense the power of the eldar blooming within you."

Alatáriel smiled shyly. "I have never heard words sung so sweetly as when they fall from your lips, Feangol."

"You should be praised with song not words, my lady, though I fear I may disappoint you." The Maia countered.

"You could never disappoint me, Feangol." The lady replied, lowering her hand and taking his hand in her own she led him through the square, ignoring the various stares of her fellow Noldor. A few were curious, others jealous, while a few looked on in disgust. She cared not for their petty emotions. She cared only about making Feangol feel welcome. So they strolled hand in hand, fingers entwined, past the many gardens and parks that dotted the landscape, the sound of the swift moving Itila growing louder as they neared the Eastern edge of the great city. They crossed a great crystal bridge that arced over part of the river. The twinkling sand widened leading to a palatial estate surrounded by lush vegetation, the main building now visible, it's pale stone walls rising well beyond the height of the many trees that surrounded the land.

Olórin marveled at the architecture, his voice full of awe as he spoke. "It is a beautiful home, Alatáriel. I can see why you enjoy your time here."

"I am happy you approve of it," Alatáriel replied, his hand still in hers as they strolled into the courtyard, stopping before the pair of wooden doors that marked the entrance. "My family is eager to talk to you."

"Your family?"

Alatáriel nodded. "Mother of course would like to speak to you about how grandfather is doing and my father has been looking forward to meeting you."

"He has?" The Maia croaked out, a sudden nervousness striking him at the mention of her father though he was unsure why such an emotion had spiked in his heart.

The lady sensed his nervousness, her voice low and calm. "Do not be afraid, Feangol. My father is a gentle elf He is nothing like his brother Fëanáro and his sons. He is merely curious about the elf I praise all the time."

The doors opened and Alatáriel entered, guiding Feangol to walk beside her, the silver-haired elf craning his neck back at the open entryway, a glass dome allowed light to flood the room, brightening the walls, giving warmth as they walked up the winding stairway, still hand in hand, standing before an open archway that led to a crystal deck, the figures of Eärwen and a regal blond elf visible as they sat looking outward beyond the borders of Tirion. The pair turned their heads, the swan princess beaming at the sight of the silver-haired elf while the male elf looked on in curiosity.

"Feangol. It is good to see you again." Eärwen sang softly, rising to greet them properly.

"My lady, it has been too long since our last meeting." Olórin sang back joyfully, bowing his head slightly and greeting her in the formal manner of elves.

"You have grown quite tall since we last spoke," The swan princess said with a happy smile. "And your form is most fair, do you not agree, Nerwen?" She asked, her gaze shifting to Alatáriel who blushed but agreed.

"Yes, Feangol is very fair, fairer than most anyone I've seen." She replied, studying her friend with tender eyes.

The Maia felt heat bloom across his face at his lady's words and the look she gave him, stammering a bit. "Y.. Your words.. honor me, though I doubt I am all that fair."

"So this is the elf you've been talking of all these years." The male elf interjected, his voice lower than the others, though no less friendly as he rose, taking his place beside his wife as he introduced himself. "I am Finarfin, son of Finwë and Indis."

"I am Feangol, my lord. Guided by Olwë and friend to your daughter, Alatáriel," He paused, straightening his frame as he slid the gray bag off his back. "I bring greetings from Lord Olwë," He said, opening the bag then reaching in, withdrawing various necklaces and bracelets made of seashells and pearls. "And gifts from the Telerin King for his kin."

The pair took the gifts, smiling in joy at the presents, taking great care to place them on the table to the right.

"My daughter has told me much of you, Feangol," Finarfin began. "We are honored to have you as our guest and are eager to hear of your adventures to our fair city. But first, let's get you settled into your room. Then we shall have some lunch and discuss other matters." He added, his blue eyes studying the entwined fingers of his daughter and Feangol.

The silver-haired elf followed his gaze then looked over at his Melda Heri who blushed, favoring him with a shy look, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly withdrawing her hand from his. Feangol cleared his throat but nodded, going at Alatáriel's gentle urging, following behind Finarfin, wondering what other matters the Noldor Prince wanted to discuss that had made his Melda Heri blush.

**Bleh.. not happy with this chapter. But it is complete and we are beginning to move along in the story a bit faster. Alat****á****riel and Feangol are nearly adult now and with adulthood comes more responsibilities.. and .. er.. romance as well.. ahem.. Anyway, please leave a review. I need reviews to keep my passion for the story alive. Onto notes.**

**Loa-**Growth in Quenya

**YT 1405**-An arbitrary year to start with this chapter. Melkor was pardoned by his brother Manwë in YT 1400, thus causing an increase of fell creatures in Valinor. Melkor did indeed spend his free time among the Noldor as the Vanyar would not listen to him and he found the Teleri too weak. At this time Feangol and Alatáriel would be 18 or so years old, so nearly adult.

**Orom****ë****- **Vala of the Hunt. Distrusting of Melkor. He often roamed around Valinor and Middle-Earth, hunting fell creatures and monsters of all shapes and sizes. Master of the bow and spear. In my story he brought a gift commissioned by Irmo to aid in the various trials and trouble that will plague Olórin in his life as an elf.

**Nahar- **name of Oromë's horse

**Aul****ë****-** Vala of smithing. Commissioned by Irmo the Vala of dreams to create a sword that would aid his pupil while he remains an elf.

**Haldanar**-Hiding Fire in Quenya. A sword that burns with a white flame that can cut through darkness. Invisible to elvish eyes when sheathed.

**Ronien-** Chasing hound in Quenya. One of Oromë's wolf hounds used for hunting. The most famous hound is Huan but we won't bring him up for a while yet.

**Galathilion- **White tree. A descendant of Telperion though it gave off no light. A gift from Yavanna to the city of Tirion.

**F****ë****an****á****ro - **Finwë'seldest son gifted in many things and a great craftsman but also very quick of temper and given to fits of anger which Melkor will use to bring about the exile of the Noldor and the slaying of many elves due to Fëanor's terrible oath to retrieve the simarils that housed the light of the two trees at any cost. His mother, Míriel, gave him almost all her life energy, so much so she left and went to the gardens of Lorien, passing away. Finwë remarried, choosing a Vanyar she-elf, Indis, to be his wife. From this came two more sons and two daughters. Fëanáro greatly dislikes his siblings, which will lead to all kinds of bad things. We'll learn more of him later on.

**Finarfin**- Youngest son of Finwë. More reasonable and gentle compared to his other brothers. Stays out of conflicts between family members. Father to Alatáriel and her three brothers. We will learn much more of him in the coming chapters.


	6. Nosse

Chapter 6-Nosse

YT 1405

Finarfin turned left from the balcony, leading Feangol down the hallway passing four rooms before stopping before an open doorway. "Since you will spending an extended period of time in Tirion, I believe it fitting for you to have this room." The Noldor prince shifted to the side, allowing the silver haired elf to enter. Feangol passed through the arched entrance, marveling at the splendor of the room. Murals lined the walls, depicting scenes of a great forest. The leaves shimmered in vibrant colors of green, while a deep blue lake sparkled in the central wall and he moved closer, inspecting the design, noting that the entirety of color was made from the jewels in the earth. High above, light filtered down and he tilted his head back, a glass dome visible and he smiled at the warmth. Olórin turned his head to the right, spying an open balcony and he stepped out, finding he could see the great forest and mountains of Valinor.

"It is a beautiful room, my lord. I am honored that you would grant me such a place of rest."

Finarfin smiled, coming to stand beside him. "It is an honor to have you here in my home," He began, studying the expanse of territory below. "My daughter also wishes for you to feel comfortable and to enjoy your time here in the great city," Turning, the Noldor smiled, waving over his shoulder. "Come. Let us have some lunch then we will talk of things."

The Maia nodded and followed, still filled with nervousness at what the Noldor king wanted to discuss with him and they made their way down the staircase, turning right and heading into a smaller room, where a great table lay in the center. Fresh fruit, cheese, and bread lined the table and Olórin sat down where Finarfin indicated, taking a small amount of food at his insistence, eating quietly until the older elf spoke.

"How is the food, Feangol?"

The silver haired elf took a small sip of wine from the silver goblet, lowering it down gently as he replied, "It is most palatable, my lord. I thank you for allowing me to partake of your food."

Finarfin smiled. This elf was indeed rather humble and polite just as his daughter and his wife had informed him and he could see why Alatáriel was fond of Feangol. And there was power there, reflected in the vibrant blue of the boy's eyes, that could not be denied. Being married to a Teleri had allowed the blond elf to interact with many of his wife's people, but few had the strength that Feangol possessed, even at so young an age. _Yes. He would be a good match for her._ He thought as he asked,

"Tell me, Feangol. What do you think of my daughter?"

Olórin blinked at the question, voice soft. " Alatáriel is my best friend. Even though we've been apart from each other for some years, she has always been foremost in my thoughts and my heart. I am beyond happy to be in her presence once again."

"It brings me joy to hear of this, Feangol." Finarfin replied, smiling warmly at the younger elf. "My daughter has told me much of you and your exploits in Alqualondë. She also told me you have a gift of song and verse that makes her heart sing in joy."

The Maia blushed, lowering his gaze. "I am just a simple elf, my lord. I sing for my lady because it pleases her and her smile brings light to my soul."

"You love her then, do you not?"

Olórin snapped his gaze up, that nervous feeling blooming once again and he lifted his hand, resting over his fluttery heart. Did he love her? The longing he felt to be reunited with his Melda Heri was strong and only tempered by the knowledge he would see her again someday. And now, during their reunion, that deep ache in his heart had vanished, replaced with a warmth that washed over him upon being in her presence once more. "Yes..." He whispered, brow furrowed at how quiet his voice was and he straightened his frame, his tone more confident as he spoke. "Yes. I do love Alatáriel. She is my Melda Heri and I would do whatever she asked, if it so pleased her."

Finarfin smiled, sensing the truth of Feangol's words. "I am glad to hear of this, Feangol, for my daughter has said much the same of you."

"She... She has?" Olórin stammered, frowning when the older elf let out a soft laugh.

"Why are you so surprised? Did you not think she would return such feelings? One would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not notice how deeply she cares for you."

Olórin's features relaxed at his words, feeling silly again though he spoke calmly. "It makes me happy to know my lady cares for me. My greatest wish is to remain at her side for as long as she will allow me."

"Have you told her of this, Feangol?"

The Maia shook his head. "No, my lord. I do not want to... press her for anything. Being near her is enough for me. The decision should always be hers."

"You are a gentle elf, I can tell," Finarfin began, studying the younger elf. "But there is also great strength within your spirit. You are a good match for my daughter and if the time comes that you two wish to be united in marriage, you will have my blessing."

Olórin felt heat bloom along his cheeks and he managed to reply without sounding like a child. "You honor me with your words, my lord. If my lady at some point in time decides she wishes to take me as her husband, I will consent with all my heart."

"When that time comes we will discuss the matter further. But for now, let us finish our meal then you may go and find my daughter. I am sure she is most anxious to spend time with you."

"Yes, my lord." The Maia replied and once the meal was finished, he set off to find Alatáriel. He could sense her outside of the house and so he exited through the front door, finding the lady sitting upon a bench near a willow tree. He watched as her gaze shifted over to him, an open smile upon her lovely features and she beckoned him to come sit beside her.

"How was your visit with father?" She asked, watching as the silver haired elf gracefully walked towards her, admiring the sight of his form. He had grown much since she last saw him and her heart warmed at the love she could see reflected in the sapphire pools of his eyes as their gazes met.

"It went surprisingly well," Olórin began as he lowered himself to sit to the lady's left. "Your father asked of my feelings for you."

"Is that so?" Alatáriel began, finding the blush on his skin rather cute and she reached out to caress his cheek. "What was your answer?"

Olórin found her touch to his face comforting, leaning into it as he spoke in softer tones. "That you are my Melda Heri and that I would do anything you asked of me if it pleased you. I told him my greatest wish was to remain at your side for as long as you allowed it."

Alatáriel smiled tenderly, lowering her hand to rest over his. "You make my heart sing, Feangol. I do not wish for you to leave here. Not unless I am allowed to go with you."

The Maia looked down at his lady's hand over his own and he whispered reverently, "Then I will remain at your side as long as there is life in me."

His words were always musical to her ears and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Then it is settled. You shall stay with me in Tirion," The lady rose, her hand clasping his as she gently pulled him to stand with her. "Come. There is something I wish to show you."

Olórin followed Alatáriel back into the house and up the stairs, his hand still in hers as she led him down the long corridor and into a large bed chamber, silver and gold dominated the decor and his eyes shifted beyond the large bed to the nearby crystal shelf upon which lay the nemmiril that the silver haired elf had procured for her long ago. The water jewel glowed brightly, bypassing the glass display that surrounded it and he walked over, murmuring. "You kept it? Even after all this time?"

"How could I not keep it?" The she-elf replied, coming to stand beside him. "It was a gift from the one closest to me. From the one whom I love."

Olórin shifted his gaze from the jewel over to her, bowing his head slightly in shyness. "My lady... I..."

Her fingertips silenced his lips and he lifted his head, his eyes focused on the tender ones of Alatáriel. "Words are not needed, Feangol. I know your heart and you know mine. That is all that matters in this world."

He searched her gaze, finding the truth in her words and he reached up, gently taking her hand, lowering it to kiss the top. "As you say, my lady."

"Alatáriel..." The she-elf said softly. "Just Alatáriel."

He noted the twinkling in her azure orbs and smiled at the gentle teasing, remembering their introduction long ago. "Alatáriel." He conceded, reluctantly letting her hand go, watching as she moved over to sit in one of the crystal chairs near a table and he followed, sitting opposite of her.

"Now tell me of your journey. Did anything interesting happen?"

The Maia relayed his tale, leaving out the part of receiving Haldanar, brow furrowed at the concerned look that bloomed on his lady's features.

"So Oromë thinks this is the work of Melkor?" She asked, noting the hesitation of her beloved Feangol to answer and she wondered if it had to do with his dark vision.

"Yes." The Maia replied after a few seconds. He did not want to frighten Alatáriel with his suspicions though he knew he must tell her some truth of what he believed. "I also believe Melkor is up to something. The Vala of the Hunt warned me to be mindful of his presence. That Melkor was spending time among the Noldor and that little good could come from it."

Alatáriel tilted her head. "Hmm... Father has mentioned something about some of the Noldor gaining new knowledge. Perhaps that is due to Melkor's influence."

"It is likely that the Vala has influenced their recent crafts and designs, though I would not trust him to offer any real assistance."

There was fear in the timbre of Feangol's voice but she did not press him on the issue, instead she favored him with a smile and stood up, voice light as she asked. "Why don't we go for a walk? I can show you around Tirion so that you may gain a better grasp of it's layout."

Olórin returned her smile, rising at her motion and nodded. "As you wish, Alatáriel."

The pair strolled back into the city, walking hand in hand as the lady pointed out the various homes of the other Noldor royalty, coming to a stop near a water fountain in the shape of a swan, her eyes shifting skyward as the glow of Laurelin faded and the silver of Telperion took it's place. "This is one of my favorite spots in the city." Alatáriel whispered, shifted her gaze back down. Reaching out she gently danced her fingertips around the surface of the pool. "This swan was commissioned by my grandmother Indis, as a gift for mother. My father wanted it placed here in honor of the few Teleri that reside in the city."

Olórin listened quietly, coming to stand to her left as he mimicked her motions. "It is a lovely water fountain. I can see why it appeals to you so deeply."

"Does it not for you, Feangol?"

The silver haired elf kept his gaze cast downward. "I admit I do miss the sound of waves crashing on the sandy shores. The swan is a good reminder of Alqualondë. But I also enjoy the sound of the wind through the trees and the feel of grass beneath my feet."

Alatáriel laughed softly, turning to sit sideways on the fountain edge, studying her friend. "I forgot for a moment of your love of the land. Perhaps someday soon we can take a trip into the interior of Valinor. I do long to see the two trees again."

Olórin blushed a bit at laugh, no longer surprised at how easily such a simple thing as a laugh from his Melda Heri affected him. "If your father will allow it, we shall go on a journey anywhere you wish to go."

"I will have to ask him. I find the idea of leaving the city without an escort rather intriguing. Though with you at my side I do believe no danger will come to me."

"I will not let harm come to you, Alatáriel." The Maia replied, lifting his gaze, blinking at the sudden closeness of his lady's face to his own. She was even more beautiful at this distance, her skin unblemished and her features perfect in form. The silver light caught the golden tresses of her hair, making them glow and his breath caught in his throat at the sudden sense of emotion he felt from their shared connection. Olórin had never experienced the intensity of such feelings before and it made his heart hammer in his chest at the open display of adoration in Alatáriel's eyes.

"Nor will I let any harm come to you, Feangol." She whispered, her gaze unwavering as she studied the silver haired elf's face. He was beautiful to her. Strong and lean and wonderful. Her Feangol. She hesitated, wondering if he knew the depth of her feelings for him only to widen her eyes in surprise as he reached out to trace the back of his fingers along her cheek.

He was nervous and uncertain how to react to the intensity of her feelings for him and it took a few moments for Olórin to remember the proper displays of affection lovers gave to one another. At last he reacted, reaching out to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers, his voice lower and deeper than his usual timbre. "You are more lovely than the call of the sea and more bright than the light of Varda's stars. I'm spellbound by you, Alatáriel ."

She leaned into his touch, reaching out to caress his cheek. "My Feangol."

"Yes, my lady." He replied, turning his head to kiss her wrist. "Always yours."

Heat flashed across her features at his claim and she leaned in, resting her forehead against his, her lips nearly upon his own as she whispered. "And I am yours, Feangol."

Olórin felt move Alatáriel closer, her lips suddenly brushing against his. It was soft, innocent, and wonderful. The sensation was electric and he returned it shyly, tasting her for the first time, heart threatening to burst from his chest, reveling in the new sensation, pulling back as she did, beaming fondly at her, happy in this precious moment in time, brow furrowing at the sound of a male's voice behind him.

"Well now, isn't this touching?"

Alatáriel cast her gaze beyond Feangol's shoulder, her voice as cool as her features as she spoke. "What do you want, Curufinwë?"

"I was just taking a stroll through Tirion," The tall, dark haired man replied, a sneer on his lips as he added, "and just happened to find you here with your... friend. Whatever were you two up to, hmm?"

"It is not your concern." Alatáriel spoke icily, disdain on her face as she glared at her cousin.

"No. But that doesn't mean I have to approve of such an affront to your Noldor heritage. A Telerin, really, Alatáriel? I could knock him down with one blow, weak as his line is."

Olórin sensed the growing hostility, the challenge in the dark haired elf's words direct and heated and he wondered why this Curufinwë was so angry at a simple thing as the closeness of he and Alatáriel. Still, the look of insult in the lady's eyes towards the intruder steeled his will and he rose slowly, turning to face the taller elf. "I don't believe we've met before," He began, trying to smooth things between his lady and the newcomer. "I am Feangol, a student of King Olwë, friend to Alatáriel, and representative of Alqualondë."

The dark haired Noldor frowned, eyes narrowed at the power reflected in the smaller elf's eyes, finding it a bit unsettling though he covered it up by growling out, "I don't care where you've come from Telerin or your name. You are in the city of Tirion, home of the great Noldor. You will do well to remember your place here."

He brushed roughly past Feangol, surprise on his features when the Telerin remained firmly in his spot, unmoved from the physical contact.

The pair watched as the dark haired elf stalked off, Olórin lowering his gaze to his Melda Heri as he asked, "Who was that?"

"His name is Curufinwë," Alatáriel answered with a sigh. "One of Fëanáro's sons. He is my uncle's favorite child and the most like him in personality. Quick to fight and quick to argue. He is as obstinate and ill-willed towards my family line as his father, though he seems more hostile to my other uncle, Aracáno, and his family."

The Maia shook his head. "There is a darkness in his eyes I did not like. He seemed to want to start a physical confrontation with me, though I do not understand why."

"Because he's a bully," Alatáriel replied, her gaze making sure her cousin was truly gone before turning back to Feangol. "I am sure if it came to a fight, you would win."

Olórin blinked, murmuring. "I'm not so sure, though if he tried to hurt you I would fight him without hesitation."

The blonde she-elf grinned at him, sliding her arm under his, steering him back towards her home. "I have no doubt that you would come to my aid if I needed it, Feangol. It is one of the many things I love about you."

He walked arm in arm with her, blushing a bit as he spoke. "One of many?"

Alatáriel nodded, favoring him with a happy smile. "One of many things indeed, sweet Feangol." She found being close to him comforting, holding no fear of her cousin or those of his ilk, though the intrusion into her romantic moment with her chosen elf was troubling. Why did it matter what her cousin thought of her growing relationship with Feangol? Being a Telerin had nothing to do with him becoming her chosen husband if she decided to marry. _No matter._ She thought, looking over to the handsome features of Feangol. _They know nothing of love, only hate and anger. They are not worthy of understanding. _She reasoned as she walked beside the silver haired elf. "Shall we return home, Feangol? Or do you wish to walk some more through the city?"

Olórin sensed the troubling emotions of his lady but knew it was best to let the matter rest and he gave her a loving smile. "I think I've seen all I need to see of Tirion for the day, Alatáriel," He paused, shifting his gaze straight ahead as he added, "Home sounds good to me."

The lady matched his smile, keeping pace with him as they made their way back to Finarfin's house and the safety of it's borders, each wondering what tomorrow would bring and excited at the prospect of being in the company of the other for as long as life allowed.

**Well.. some romance for those who enjoy such things. Hope you enjoyed it. It would be nice if I got a review or two but I know that won't happen and that bums me out to no end and kills my enthusiasm for this story. Anyway, onto notes for those who care to read them.**

**Nosse**- family in Quenya

**Indis**- Galadriel's grandmother, wife of Finwë and mother to Finarfin and Fingolfin or Aracáno as he's known in Quenya.

**Curufinw****ë**- The fourth of seven sons born to Fëanáro and Nerdanel. His father's favorite son and most like him in personality and physical appearance. Devious and prideful and the cause of much misery and dark deeds when he leaves Valinor and enters Middle-Earth. But that will take place later.


	7. Ósanwe

Chapter7-Ósanwe

**YT 1432**

Olórin stood outside his lady's chamber, waiting patiently for Alatáriel. His Melda Heri had requested his presence and the Maia did not question it, for he loved her with all his heart and soul. In the many years since remaining in Tirion, Olórin had learned much of the Noldor customs and crafts, sharing his own knowledge of song, sea, and archery with those who asked of him. He found the dark haired elves relentless in their pursuit of knowledge and knew it was both a gift and a hindrance to the Eldar. For Melkor roamed freely, and already the Maia could sense a darker undertone in the city in the interactions witnessed between Fëanáro and Fingolfin. This extended to Finarfin on occasion when the Maia accompanied the blond elf to visit Indis, the Noldor King's mother.

Still, Finarfin seemed unaffected by the growing hostility between his brothers, preferring to stay out of their disputes, explaining that Fëanáro had always been full of fire and pride, stubborn and quick tempered in his anger and disliked his brothers and kin due to having different mothers. The Maia well knew of the marriage rituals and customs of the Eldar. Love was a strong emotion for the elves and once a bond had been established, marriage usually took place and from that union, nothing could tear it asunder, save death or in the rarest of cases, choice. That Finwë took a second wife due to the death of his first was not frowned upon, save Fëanáro who would most likely see it as a betrayal of his mother's memory. At least that was how Olórin understood the situation.

But to have such open hostility? To have such aggressive reactions when in the presence of their own kin? The Maia frowned and began to pace, wondering if the negative feelings and behaviors exhibited by Fëanáro and most of his sons towards Fingolfin and Finarfin and their children was being influenced by the words of Melkor. Olórin had sensed the Ainu's presence on several occasions since arriving in Tirion and upon the Vala's leaving, a dark cloud of emotion would hang over the house of Fëanáro, spreading out to other Noldor. He began to hear whisperings of discontent within the hearts of the dark haired elves. Some felt that the Valar were holding the Noldor hostage in the land of Valinor, so that a new race of beings called men could claim the great lands to the west, depriving the first born the chance to build and grow kingdoms of their own. The Maia knew of Eru's theme of men, as he knew of the true nature of the Valar, who simply wished for the elves to remain free of the war and strife that Melkor had caused long ago. But he could not counter their arguments, lest he be labeled a spy for the Valar or worse, garner the attention of Melkor himself.

Still, Olórin disliked the tension that hovered in the air, wishing he could do something to stop the anger and resentment that festered in the hearts of some of the Noldor. If for nothing else than to ease the conflict between the brothers so that he could enjoy his time with Alatáriel without the interference of Fëanáro's son Curufinwë, whom seemed to despise the Telerin above all other elves, following and taunting him, invading his space, his insults more vicious with each passing interaction, trying to goad the silver haired elf into a physical altercation, which always ended with the Maia ignoring and walking away from the conflict. This only seemed to upset the Noldor prince even more and his efforts only grew more hostile and aggressive upon the next crossing of paths within the walls of the city.

Olórin could not understand what he had done to earn such malice but did his best to avoid the dark haired elf, remaining more often then not on the grounds of Finarfin's estate. But sooner or later, he would have to deal with the growing tide of Curufinwë's dark thoughts that washed over him, either by words or by fists and the Maia did not look forward to that undertaking. _I do not want to fight him but if he does not desist with his words and actions towards me, then I will have no choice but to confront him. _ He thought, going still at the worried tone of his Melda Heri's voice.

"What is troubling you, Feangol?"

The silver haired elf turned, relaxing his features, favoring Alatáriel with a tender smile. "Nothing, my lady, now that I am in your presence."

The Noldor princess's features lightened at his words, though her voice was still tinged with worry as she moved closer to him. "You cannot lie to me, Feangol, I know you too well. Your heart is troubled and your eyes speak of some worry that has yet been voiced. So tell me, love, what is upsetting you so?"

He felt his heart flutter at being called love, a slight blush upon his skin. It never ceased to amaze him at how so simple a word could affect him and he lowered his gaze a bit, voice soft. "I do not wish to burden you with my concerns with your birthday so near. Now is a time to celebrate, not reflect on my own troubles."

"Your troubles are mine as well, Feangol," Alatáriel replied, strength in her gaze as she reached out to caress the silver haired elf's cheek. "I can feel the unease in your heart and hear it in your mind. So talk to me, Feangol. Tell me what is bothering you."

The Maia sighed softly, brow furrowing again as he looked down at his beloved, studying her. His lady had reached adulthood, taller than any other she-elf in Valinor. Her beauty was unrivaled and her skill in all things Noldor was a true sight to behold. She was strong, powerful, brave, and beautiful to him and he felt awed in her presence. Perhaps his love for her made him biased but to him there was no other elf that could compare to his Melda Heri. Reaching out, he caressed her cheek in like fashion, then lowered it, taking her free hand in his own as he spoke in soft tones. "Walk with me, Alatáriel, and I will tell you of my concerns."

Alatáriel leaned into her beloved's touch, a bit of disappointment blooming in her heart when he took his hand away but she nodded at his request, twining her fingers with his as they headed down the stairs and into the open courtyard outside. She cast a glance up at Feangol, noting the strength and beauty in his features. He had reached adulthood at nearly the same time as she had, his body stronger and well proportioned, firm and toned, and tall, having grown a few inches above Alatáriel herself. She found comfort and safety in his presence and her love grew ever more the longer they were together. Of course, neither of them acted much on their feelings in a physical way, as they were unmarried, their expressions mostly of soft touches and gentle kisses and at times the lady wished for more but knew this was the way of things in Valinor.

But lately, Alatáriel's own thoughts drifted off into realms of other possibilities that she dare not mention to anyone, save perhaps Feangol should the time come to voice such things. Part of her worried he would love her less for her thoughts and ideas, while the other longed to share the growing desire she had for a kingdom of her own, far from the growing conflict between her uncles and even her father, who did his best to avoid any infighting.

The Maia sensed the swirl of emotions coming from his Melda Heri and his brow furrowed at the thought of him being the source of her conflicted feelings and he slowed his walk to a stop, voice soft. "It seems I'm not the only one with troubling thoughts, Alatáriel," He began. "Perhaps there are things that we both must share with each other to ease our worries."

Alatáriel stopped with him, blinking at his words, lifting her gaze up to him, a playful smile upon her lips as she laughed softly at being caught by his perceptive nature, "It seems we know each other very well indeed. I cannot hide anything from you, sweet Feangol," She tugged their entwined hands gently, leading him over the bench under the willow. She sat down, the silver haired elf following as she began to speak, "Before I tell you my thoughts, will you share with me your own?"

Olórin blushed at her soft laugh, clearing his throat as he followed her, nodding at her request as he replied, "As you wish, my lady," He kept his gaze on her as he spoke, "I have sensed things of a darker nature growing in the city of Tirion. I know it has not escaped your notice as well, but I find it troubling and fear violence may break out if the situation is not rectified."

"I have indeed sensed a growing hostility between my family and kin," Alatáriel said with a nod. "But I do not know if there is any way to ease the bad feelings between my uncles and my father. My grandfather could help but he seems to favor his eldest child above his other two sons thus giving fuel to Fëanáro's disdain and distrust of his brothers."

"What of your grandmother, Indis? Does she not have the ability to talk to Finwë?"

Alatáriel tilted her head, features thoughtful. "I know my grandparents love each other very much. Perhaps there is some way my grandmother could get my grandfather to try to ease the situation but he may see it as nothing more than his wife trying to favor her two sons."

The Maia sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "It seems this situation will never be resolved."

The she-elf reached out, taking his hand from his forehead, leaning in to study him, murmuring, "It's okay, Feangol. I know you worry about my family and the people in the city. You are a wise and gentle elf and I understand you do not wish for anyone to be hurt. But I don't expect you to solve the riddle of conflict within my family, nor do I wish you to."

Olórin's brow furrowed and he shook his head, lowering his gaze "I worry that it is more than just simple bad feelings over perceived slights causing the rift between your kin. I feel the presence of Melkor is behind all this dark talk and action."

At the mention of the Vala, the blond she-elf voice her own thoughts. "I agree with your assessment, Feangol. I saw behind the mask Melkor wore the single time I was near him and found him foul indeed. But there is little I could say that would be listened to outside of my father, my mother and a few Noldor. Many seem taken with his gifts of knowledge. For now I think it best to simply avoid being in his presence."

The Maia nodded. "I think it a wise decision to not seek him out nor be near him, Alatáriel."

"Is that part of your worry, Feangol?" She asked. "Do you fear I will be corrupted by his dark influence?"

He frowned at her words, noting a sense of concern in his lady's heart and he lifted his gaze to study her. "No, my lady. I know you are too intelligent and too strong to fall for his tricks. I just..." He started then stopped, murmuring. "I just don't want any harm to come to you. If I lost you I'd..."

The lady lifted her hand, resting her fingertips over his lips, stilling his voice. "You will never lose me, Feangol. I will not be parted from you nor leave you so do not worry over this."

Olórin kept his eyes on her fair features, seeing the truth of her words and sensing her deep love of him and he lifted his hand, gently taking hold of her wrist, kissing her fingertips before guiding her hand back down. He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb, voice tender as he spoke, "I believe you, Alatáriel," He replied then added, "But now it is your turn to talk to me of your concerns. Tell me of your troubles, my lady, so that I may help to ease them."

His touch was comforting and made her heart flutter and she found she very much enjoyed the contact. Her gaze met Feangol's for a moment she grew lost in the depths of the deep blue pools of his eyes. He was all there was and she found herself moving closer to him, voice a mere whisper. "If I tell you, do you promise not to laugh at me?"

The Maia felt his body come alive at the look the she-elf gave him, finding the closeness of her body affecting him more than it should given the circumstances and he leaned in giving a whisper of his own, "I would never laugh at you, my lady."

Alatáriel wanted to kiss him then but knew it was only fair to share her thoughts with him so she withdrew a bit and spoke, "Lately, I've been thinking over what I've wanted to do with my life, Feangol. And I found myself... imagining you and I..." She paused, biting her lip, blushing darkly, unable to voice what it was she wanted to say.

He tilted his head, brow furrowed at how tongue tied his lady was. It was rare for her to have such difficulty speaking and he tried to ease her worry as he asked, "You imagined us doing what, my lady? It's okay to tell me, I said I would not laugh. So what is it?"

The lady looked up at Feangol, touched yet frustrated by his innocent nature and she shook her head. "It is... of a very private and personal nature, Feangol... something... married elves do.. to show.. affection for one another..."

A knowing look spread across the Maia's features at her words, a blush of his own forming on his face as he understood now what it was she was referring to. "My lady... I.. well... that is..." He stammered, frowning inwardly at how silly he sounded, feeling his beloved's gaze on him, sensing within her a regret for sharing her thoughts and he straightened his back, clearing his throat. "I... believe such thoughts... are normal... there is no shame in... wanting to express love... in a physical way... when... the person you care about feels the same."

Relief filled Alatáriel at his answer, though she felt a rare sense of shyness as she replied. "It... makes my heart happy to hear that you do not think less of me for my desire of you."

"Why would I think less of you, Alatáriel?" The Maia said softly, bringing the lady's hand up to kiss the top. "Though it is true we are not married, if the time comes when you are ready to marry, I will be overjoyed at the privilege to be your husband. Whatever it is you wish of me, I will do it."

"Sweet Feangol..." The lady whispered, eying in adoration. "You know not how easily your words affect me. You make me want to forget everything and just..." Her voice trailed off suddenly and went silent and the silver haired elf was puzzled.

"Just what, my lady?" He asked, eying her in concern when she did not answer. "Alatáriel?"

The female elf felt a sudden sense of trepidation in what she wanted to say and she cast her gaze down, murmuring. "Just run away with you... far from here..."

Olórin sensed her fear and her longing for independence and he whispered, "Where would you wish to go, my lady?" Though a dreadful thought occurred to him that was confirmed by his Melda Heri's answer.

"To Middle Earth..." She replied quietly, her voice gaining power as she continued. "It is said to be beyond size to Valinor. Full of promise and unoccupied country. We came from the land to the east, why should we not return to it?"

His brow furrowed and his heart sank, though he did his best to hide it. "It is a place full of peril and fell creatures beyond anything in Valinor," He said softly, conflicted in his loyalty to the Valar and his love for Alatáriel as he added, "No one has dared tried to cross the great sea nor the Helcaraxë since Melkor was imprisoned. With the Vala now free to roam it would be very dangerous to even attempt to travel to the east."

"Are you not the least bit curious about where you came from, Feangol?" Alatáriel countered. "You have told me of wandering the shores and interior of Valinor, imagine what else could be discovered when you travel through Middle Earth."

Olórin blinked at her words, doubt filling him at his purpose and he found himself answering in a soft voice, "My lady... It is true that I love adventure and travel. I have stated that I will do whatever you asked of me, and I stand by my words. I love you and will go where you go. I only hesitate because of the darkness that lies to the east," He paused a bit before adding, "But is this truly what you desire, Alatáriel? Do you really want to leave the safety of Valinor for the unknown of Middle Earth? Are you willing to leave your family behind?"

Now it was the lady's turn to blink and she cast her eyes downward, feeling selfish for her desire to leave Valinor. "No... I do not wish to abandon my family, Feangol. It was foolish of me to even speak of it."

The silver haired elf lifted his hand to crook his finger under Alatáriel's chin, gently urging her to lift her gaze, eyes on hers as he whispered, "I asked you of your thoughts and feelings, Alatáriel. Never feel shame in sharing with me. Even if I do not agree, I will never love you less for it."

She sensed his love for her, the sting at the thought of his disapproval vanishing. He had promised to go where she wanted, did he not? _I am worrying over nothing_. She chided herself, favoring her beloved with a smile. "I feel no shame when it comes to you, Feangol." Alatáriel said, a twinkling light growing in her eyes and she laughed softly at his blush, knowing he understood the connotation.

Olórin could feel the playfulness in the she-elf's tone and see it upon her lovely features and the tables turned once again, him feeling shy as he blushed. " Alatáriel..."

She found him adorable when he grew shy and she rose up, pulling him with her.

The Maia went as he was pulled, following her as they walked towards the city, stopping in the middle of the arched bridge that hovered above part of the fast flowing Itila. They remained in companionable silence, content at the moment to watch the river pass underneath before Olórin asked, "So what do you wish for your birthday, my lady?"

Alatáriel turned her azure eyes over to Feangol, smiling tenderly. "You have already given me the greatest gift I could ask for, Feangol." She answered, reaching out to place her hand over his heart.

Olórin looked down at his beloved lady's hand, blushing as he reached up, placing his larger hand over hers, whispering, "You will always have my love, Alatáriel. But is there nothing else you wish for you birthday?"

Several thoughts burst to life in the she-elf's mind and she felt heat on her cheeks from a few of them before she replied, "I would like to see Valinor with my own eyes, Feangol," She moved closer to him then, looking up at his beautiful face as she nearly sung out, "I would like to lay under the two trees at night and watch the stars come to light. I would like to have you beside me and guide me through the pastures of Yavanna and the forests of Oromë. That is what I desire to do for my birthday, Feangol."

The Maia studied her, listening intently to her voice, joy lighting his face. "I would be honored to take you on a journey, my lady. When would you like to go?"

"If my father and my mother approve, I would like to leave tomorrow morning."

Surprise marred Olórin's features. "You do not wish to celebrate your birthday in Tirion?"

Alatáriel laughed lightly at the puzzlement upon her love's face, knowing full well how much her kin loved to host parties and dances. "I know it seems sudden, Feangol, but my greatest desire at the moment is to just get away from this city and spend time with you," She wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him fondly as she added, "Will you do this for me?"

Olórin cast his gaze down at his lady, voice as tender as his features as he wrapped his arms around her in turn. "I can deny you nothing, Alatáriel." He answered, pleasantly surprised when his Melda Heri leaned up to brush her lips over his own. He returned the kiss slowly,deeply, reveling in the taste and sense of her, pulling back only when the need to breathe kicked in, croaking out as he rested his forehead against hers. "Alatáriel..."

"Feangol..." The she-elf whispered, her lips tingling from tasting him, the strength of his love for her wrapping around her senses, find him intoxicating and she leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his solid form against her softer body. "I could... stand here like this all day..." She said, shivering in delight as her beloved stroked her back with his fingertips.

The Maia felt a chuckle escape his lips as he shifted his head to kiss her forehead. "As could I, though I'm not sure everyone else would approve."

The Noldor Princess laughed softly, nestling her face in his neck, nuzzling his skin. "I care not what others think about us, Feangol."

His eyelids fluttered at the way she nuzzled his neck, and he rested his chin on her crown. "As you say, my lady."

"I do say..." She replied, lifting her head to look back up at him. "Shall we go find my parents and see what their thoughts are on the matter?"

He was reluctant to let her go but nodded, lowering his arms as Alatáriel backed away, smiling when he felt her hand in his own. The pair returned to Finarfin's house, sitting down with the two royals as his lady asked permission to travel Valinor.

"You are of age to do as you wish, Nerwen," Eärwen's voice was the first to be heard, her blue eyes studying her daughter in confusion. "But are you certain this is what you desire? There are many who will be disappointed to not share in the festivities that a birthday celebration brings."

"I am aware of our kin's love of dances and festivals," The younger female elf said softly. "And out of respect for you and father, I did not want to just leave without your consent. Even if I am age, I am still of this house and I do not want to upset or go against your wishes for me. But this is the gift I desire most. I wish to have a little bit of freedom and I wish to leave this city for a while."

Eärwen shifted her focus over to her husband. "What do you think of this, Finarfin?"

The blond elf studied his wife for a moment before turning his attention to the pair of younger elves before him. "I do not object to this request, though it is unusual," He stated, smiling a bit at the way his daughter held tightly to Feangol's hand. "Though there is something I wish to know."

"What is it, father?" Alatáriel asked.

"You two love each other very much, that is certain." He began. "Your bond is visible to all who gaze upon you. Should you not, therefore, announce your betrothal?"

The two younger elves blushed at the thought of being married though it was Feangol who spoke first. "My lord, I would like nothing more than to be Alatáriel's husband, but only when she is ready to marry me. The choice is always hers to make."

Finarfin smiled softly, though his brow furrowed as he shifted his gaze to his only daughter. "Do you not wish to marry Feangol, Alatáriel?"

"I want to marry Feangol," The lady replied quickly, a blush on her cheek. "I love him with every fiber of my being." She paused then continued. "I just want to do it in my own time and at my own pace. You can understand that can you not, father?"

Finarfin tilted his head, studying his daughter. She had always been fiercely independent, always trying to outdo her brothers. She was gifted with her mother's strength and his own resolve. He could sense within her a need to strike out on her own and a will to do what she wished, when she wished and he could not begrudge her. "I understand, Alatáriel, but do you believe it fair to make Feangol wait? Surely he desires you as his wife?" He asked, turning his attention back to the silver haired elf who spoke,

"It is true that Alatáriel is my Melda Heri." He answered, his features shy though his voice was strong and clear. "I love her and always will love her. I know it is the same for my lady. We love each other and will never part from one another. If she wishes to wait, so too, will I wait. Until the ending of the world if she so desired."

Finarfin listened to the younger elf's words, processing them, understanding the meaning. _You two are all but married save for the rings and consummation._ He thought, smiling inwardly. Perhaps this trip his daughter wished to take would help speed up the process of finally allowing herself to be wed properly. "Very well..." He said in an even tone, "You may go traveling together, but there are a few stipulations I wish to discuss."

With that he sat down and laid out his plan for the pair, causing them to blush at one point in relation to physical contact but they agreed to his terms to behave themselves and to take care while traveling. When morning came, the two packed the essential supplies they would need, Feangol making sure to tie Haldanar upon the belt of his gray tunic while he strapped his bow and quiver against the blue cloak upon his back. He met up with Alatáriel at the foot of the stairs, his heart jumping at her warm smile and he returned the morning greeting, bowing his head slightly at Finarfin and Eärwen.

The four of them headed outside, the two younger elves turning and saying their goodbyes.

"Be careful young ones," Finarfin began, silently approving the bow he saw strapped to the silver haired elf's back. "Enjoy your time together and do be sure to remember all I've told you."

"We will be careful, my lord." Feangol replied, holding his hand to his heart. "Nemárië."

" Nemárië.." Finarfin returned, his wife following, the two of them smiling fondly at their daughter as she repeated the same gestures as Feangol.

" Nemárië.. atar... ontáre..." Alatáriel said softly to her parents, happy at their blessing, eager for the journey to begin and the two elves departed Tirion, heading west, into the heart of Valinor where the two trees lay, unaware of the dark pair of eyes that followed their departure.

**Alright... another chapter done... I do hope it was enjoyed by the few readers of this story and I ask only that you review so that I can continue this work... my notes for this chapter revolve mostly around marriage in Tolkien's universe. I do intend, in this AU story of mine, for Alatáriel and Olórin to wed. Yet, as many know, unless there is a death in which the lost love one cannot return, a second marriage is not allowed. How then to solve the conundrum of Galadriel marrying Celeborn later on... I have it all planned out... revolving around the attack of the two trees... for the Maia's vision is going to come to pass.. and that is all I will say on that.. As to the growing animosity between Feangol and ****Curufinwë****, that is due mostly to jealousy and arrogance on the Noldor's part. He does not like Teleri elves, finding them weak and unworthy of marrying his kin, but he can also sense that something is different about Feangol and feels threatened by the silver haired elf. Given his inclinations are closely aligned to his father's, he is quick of temper and holds a grudge for a long time. He's a rather wicked elf... though to be fair... his most dastardly behavior will take place in Middle Earth. **

**The time line for this story is speeding forward as you probably noted by the nearly thirty year jump... we're edging closer to the creation of the Simarils and from there.. things are going to go downhill in Valinor. Anyway, the only new words we have in this chapter are ****Ó****sanwe which means thought in Quenya, atar which means father and ****ontáre which means mother. Lastly, thanks to Littlenori and Guest (whoever you may be) for reviewing... makes me feel better to have a review or two... Speaking of reviews, ****if you want to know what happens next, please leave a few lines... or even a word or two in the review box...**


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